Nightingale
by AKFicChick
Summary: Richard Grayson met a girl and fell in love, however things didn't turn out like he wanted. 22 years later a daughter he never knew he had has come to town and she turns out to be more than he can manage. This is her story.
1. Chapter 1

**_First off I'd like to say that I don't own the characters of Nightwing/Richard Grayson or Batman/Bruce Wayne. Most other characters in this fanfiction are of my own creation and I would appreciate that they be left alone. This story is mostly and unedited first draft so please excuse the typos and whatnot, I'll get around to fixing them eventually. Enjoy!_**

A woman sat in the small seat of an airplane, her blue eyes staring out the window. She would have bought a first class ticket, in order to better suit her swollen stomach, but she barely had enough to pay for even the coach ticket. As she looked out the window at the clouds below the belly of the plane a strand of her auburn hair fell into her face. She lazily blew at it and then sighed as she put her cheek in the palm of her hand.

She should have known this would happen. Her father had warned her for getting involved with a man she had just met at a party, but he had seemed so nice. Now she was disowned and pregnant. The man she had fallen for had been dashing in his tuxedo at the Christmas party her father was invited to every year by his friend Bruce Wayne.

Mouth curling into a dreamy smile, she remembered when she first laid eyes on the gentleman.

i _"Excuse me Melody; I have to go say hello to Mr. Wayne," Melody's father said and left her side for the first time that night. She always hated these parties. Everyone there was always far older than her and boring. Her father was normally good about staying by her side so as not to make her feel so alone but this time Mr. Wayne couldn't get away from his group of admirers._

_The golden light filled the room and lit the champagne glasses, making it look as if everyone carried a small candle. Melody was busy staring into her own sparkling drink when she saw him through the glass as a bubble floated daintily up to the top. His hair was slicked back and his blue eyes were entrancing as the dim lighting cast shadows across them. _

_Letting her hand down so she could see him better she was shocked to discover he had disappeared into the immense crowd. She turned around and stood even more on her tip toes than she already was in her high heeled shoes. All she could see was a sea of multi-colored heads bobbing about slowly. It was hard to see anyone's features. She fell back onto her heels and took a sip of her champagne as she turned and nearly spilled her drink against the white-shirted chest of a man. _

"_Oh! I'm so sorry. Please excuse…me." Looking up she saw the mysterious blue eyes up close. There he was, standing right in front of her, smiling handsomely. Her heart lurched at that smile and her ankles began to shake as if they were jelly. What power did this man hold over her?_

"_No, excuse _me_," he said, his voice deep and alluring. "I didn't mean to sneak up on you." He continued to smile as he looked down at her, for all she stood only five feet and two inches. "I don't believe we've met before. My name is Richard Grayson. Most call me Dick, though," he held out his hand and Melody took it. Her breath caught in her throat at the warmth._

"_N-nice to meet you," she stuttered. "My name is Melody Bardon."_

"_Ah so you're the daughter I've heard so much about."_

"_My father talks about me?" She was beginning to feel comfortable around him now; his charming features made her feel safe._

"_Quite a bit, actually. Nothing but good things, I assure you." He lifted his glass momentarily as if to toast her._

"_You must be trying to flatter me," she said with a blush. "I do nothing but cause my father trouble."_

"_Surely a beautiful woman like you couldn't be trouble," he laughed and Melody's heart skipped a beat._

"_I'm glad for the dim light in here or else you might see how red my face is," she laughed in reply._

_It wasn't long before the two of them were walking through the crowd, getting to know each other. They even took a few moments to stop and talk to Richard's friend, Mr. Wayne. By the end of the night Melody was exhausted and had drank a little too much champagne. She had taken to sitting at her table for the last hour and Dick graciously offered to keep her company._

_When it was time to go home Melody didn't want to leave. Her father insisted she go home and go to bed immediately and so ordered her to the car. _

_On the ride home Melody sat, staring out the window at the passing buildings, humming a song that had played at the party._

"_I don't want you to see that boy again," her father said suddenly._

"_What?" Suddenly it was as if her mind wasn't muddled by the amount of drinks she had._

"_Boy's like him are bad news. They may seem nice and gentlemanly at first but they don't want anything to do with a steady relationship. I should know, I was one of them when I was young."_

"_Not everyone is like you, daddy," she yawned in reply. "Richard is the sweetest man I have ever met. Not like all those other losers."_

"_I've met Mr. Grayson on many occasions and even though he may seem like a good man I can tell he is no good. He only wants one thing from you."_

"_Daddy!" Melody cried. "You're overreacting. I'm old enough now, anyways, to see who I like and I like Richard."_

"_If I find out you are seeing that boy I'll disown you!" Now her father was serious, but Melody really liked the guy. She would just have to keep her seeing him a secret. /i _

Things had gone well enough at first. Her father was clueless to the meetings but eventually word got to Richard that she would be disowned if she had anything to do with him and he forced a break-up. By then she had already found out she was pregnant and was trying to figure out the best way in which to tell him. Unfortunately her father found the pregnancy test in her room and after a long argument she was ordered to leave the house and never come back.

All the money her father had saved for her had been transferred from her accounts to his own so she couldn't get even a cent. As soon as she had found out her father refused her money she went out and bought the nearest news paper and searched the Help Wanted ads.

It had taken several months to accumulate enough money to go overseas to live with her mother. She hadn't talked to her mother in years and was nervous about suddenly showing up at her door. She hoped it would be all right.

The plane jolted and Melody was shook from her thoughts. The light out the window was beginning to grow dark and a few of the passengers had already gone to sleep. Sleeping sounded like a good idea, the baby took much of her energy and she hadn't gotten nearly as much food as she had wanted after being kicked out of her father's house. She had counted on Richard to take her in but when she arrived at his house he was indifferent and told her there was no possible way he could let her live there. Even though he apologized for turning her away Melody still felt as if he didn't care. She decided she wouldn't tell him about his child. The baby wouldn't know what Richard was really like. She would make up wonderful stories about the baby's father so that it seemed like she was the one who had turned him away.

"Miss?" Melody turned to see the flight attendant standing next to her, smiling warmly. "Would you like something to snack on?"

"That would be very nice, thank you," Melody said with a nod and watched the attendant walk to the back and then return.

"I'm not supposed to give you this but you look like you need it." The woman handed over a small tin container and Melody opened it. Inside were a few bags of peanuts, pretzels, and a couple of cookies.

"Thank you so much," Melody said, tears in her eyes. "I won't let anyone know." The attendant smiled and nodded then walked off to help another passenger who had called for her.

Hours later the plane landed and Melody was woken up by the kind flight attendant. The woman helped her off the plane and said goodbye. Now Melody was in a new country and she had to find her way to her mother's house.

With much frustration and confusion she eventually stood on the doorstep to the house her mother inhabited. She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. After a second calming breath she reached out a shaking hand and rang the doorbell. When it opened a frazzled looking woman with mousy brown hair stood there.

"Yes?" she asked as she looked Melody up and down.

"Is Shandra Bardon home?" she asked, remembering her mother hadn't gone back to her maiden name.

"And who're you?" the maid asked.

"I'm her daughter, Melody Bardon."

The woman then looked Melody up and down once more and then sighed. "Didn't you hear the news?"

"What news?"

"Miss Bardon," the woman hesitated, "I called a few months ago to tell you that Ms. Bardon died. Didn't your father tell you?"

Melody's heart stopped. Her mother, dead? "H-how did it happen?"

"The lady of the house was diagnosed with bone cancer. She was told she had a few months but she didn't make it past a few weeks. "

"Why didn't she call or write me?"

"She did! Many times. Your father said you weren't there or you never responded to the letters."

Melody collapsed to the ground, hands over her face as tears streamed down her cheeks. Her father would come to ruin for this, she vowed. The maid helped her up and into the house.

"It will be alright, miss," she said as she sat Melody on a sofa. "May I ask what you're doing here so suddenly?"

With something else to think about Melody's tears began to subside.

"I-I was k-kicked out of m-my house," she explained through shuddering breaths.

"Whatever for?" the older woman placed an arm around Melody's shoulders.

"My father forbade me to see this certain man. I liked the man too much and I'm old enough to choose who I do and don't like. I saw the guy in private but when he heard that I'd be disowned if I saw him he broke it off." She took a deep breath. "By then I had been pregnant for a month. I was trying to find the right way to tell him which is why I didn't tell him as soon as I found out. But the night he broke up with me my father found the pregnancy test in my room and threw me out. She rubbed her large belly with a gentle smile. "I was cut off from everything. I found a job so I could save up money and come here. I figured my mom would take me in. I don't have much money left." She reached into her purse and pulled out her wallet. "Only enough for one meal, if it's small." Tears came to her eyes again.

"Don't worry, miss. I have an idea." The lady rubbed the girl's shoulders. "The house is going to be sold and I have found another job with another family. They pay well and are very nice. I'm sure I could get you a job."

"Really?" Melody asked and the woman nodded, smiling warmly. "If so, then I'll do it! I want my baby to live."

Before long the house and all its contents were sold and Melody worked diligently as a nanny for her employer's children. The maid, Emma, cleaned and sometimes cooked.

Within another month the baby was on its way and Melody had been assigned to the kitchen to help the chef prepare meals by cutting the meat and vegetables.

With this new placement she learned to make many delicious meals. It soon became her favorite thing to do.

The day the baby was born the entire household took the day off but the chef still took the time to create a feast for everyone. After she had the baby, Melody was brought home for private care so she could also enjoy the wonderful meal.

With everyone gathered around the table, the baby in Melody's arms, the other employees and the family wanted to know what the baby girl was going to be named.

"I've always liked the name Bryce, even if it is normally a boy's name," she answered as little Bryce yawned.

"Is she going to have her father's last name?" the wife of Melody's employer asked.

"No," she answered solemnly. "She'll take on my name." Melody looked at the baby and smiled contentedly. "Bryce Bardon."


	2. Chapter 2

Four years had passed since Bryce's birth. She attended a private preschool with the youngest of the employer's children and slept alternate nights with her mother and the youngest child.

During this year Bryce began learning about the local animals. Birds were her favorite, so Emma, the maid, would take her out into the garden and have her name a bird based on its call.

It was one night of this game that Bryce picked out the call of a nightingale. She loved nightingales. The male's call was her favorite noise in the world.

When her fifth birthday arrived Bryce was presented with an enormous gift wrapped in a white sheet. Upon pulling the sheet off she found two nightingales sitting on a perch, looking at her quizzically.

Bryce squealed her joy and hugged everyone, for it had been a joint present.

At twenty-one years of age Bryce was tall and very lean. Her arms were long and slender as were her legs. They had to be for a dancer.

Whenever Bryce had a recital her heart pounded joyfully as she twisted her raven black hair into a tight bun at the back of her head and put on her costume. Being in front of a crowd, moving gracefully across the stage gave Bryce one of the biggest thrills. But nothing topped the way she felt when she sang.

Inspired by her nightingales (of which she now only had one), she took voice lessons as soon as she entered grade school. Everything was paid for by her mother's boss, to which Bryce could show no end to her thanks.

Because of her double talent she opened a small theater where she could choreograph and perform dances coupled with songs. She often went to a friend for music and lyrics but each was her choosing. She would tell her friend to write a sad song about a lost love and he would do it. She would ask him to write her a song about peace and he would do it. No matter what she asked her friend always came through.

When the theater became so popular that reporters from all over the world wanted an interview, Bryce met a man from a city called Gotham. The name sounded faintly familiar. She seemed to remember her mother mentioning it when she spoke of where she had grown up. This man not only wanted her to answer a few questions but he had come with explicit instructions to ask her to come to Gotham and open a theater there. The money wasn't a problem.

"I can't," she told the reporter sadly.

"Why not?"

"I couldn't leave my mother like that. She's all I have and I'm all she has."

"Are you sure? You'll have everything you could ever want," he wheedled.

Bryce laughed lightly and shook her head. "I very much doubt you could ever give me what I really want. No one can," she ended quietly.

"Would you at least think about it? The man I'm here for wants to meet you in person."

"Then you can tell him if he can shell out money for a theater and my flight over there then he can very well pay for a ticket to see me here." She turned away from the man into flashing cameras. "Sorry everyone!" she said loudly. "That's it for tonight. I have to get home. There will be another show tomorrow at the same time. Thank you!" Whines and cheers met her ears as she pushed her way through the crowd. Her mother was waiting and she didn't want to keep her any longer.

At home Bryce sat on her mother's bed, stroking her auburn hair. "Mother," she whispered. "A man came to me today and said someone in the city next to your hometown wants to pay for me to go there and open a theater. He wants me to sing and dance for everyone there."

Melody Bardon took a breath and opened her eyes. Her skin was pale and she had bags under her eyes. "That's nice, dear," she said almost inaudibly. "What did you say?" Melody took her daughter's hand and held it to her chest.

"I told him no, mother. I couldn't leave you like this."

With a weak shake of her head Melody smiled. "You should do it, Bryce. It's the opportunity of a lifetime." Her breath came ragged as she tried to breathe deeply. "If word gets out that you are willing to travel and open theaters," she paused to take another breath, "then others will come willing to pay more and more. You could do very well for yourself."

"But I don't care about fame," Bryce answered as she squeezed her mother's hand gently. "I want to make sure you're doing well. The money I make here is more than enough to pay for hospital expenses and this house." She looked around at the bedroom that was covered in pictures of roses and porcelain roses. Bryce smiled at the thought that her mother loved the sensual, sweet-smelling flowers.

"Don't worry about me. Emma is here and I have saved up enough money to cover the rest of my bills. I will be well taken care of until the day I die."

"But that won't be for a long while," Bryce said hopefully.

"You know that I will die before long. The cancer has taken too much of me," she breathed in slowly, "and I am beginning to tire of fighting it. If I know you are doing what you love and making enough money for yourself," she wheezed trying to take another breath and then began to cough. Bryce jumped up and poured her mother a glass of water and held it to the dying woman's lips. "I will be content and can move on," she finished once she had swallowed the liquid.

"I won't leave you while you're like this!" Bryce said stubbornly. "I could never do that. You mean more to me than anything else."

Melody let go of Bryce's hand and patted it lightly. With a sigh she said, "Then you do what you want. But please don't give up such an opportunity on my account." With that her mother could no longer keep her eyes open and so fell asleep.

The next day as Bryce prepared for her show later that evening the auditorium doors opened. She stopped mid spin and put her arms down as she watched the man approached the stage. When the light revealed his face she saw that it was the reporter from the night before.

"No one's allowed in here until six-thirty." She put one hand on a round hip. "How did you get the security guard to let you in?"

The man smiled. "I'm a reporter. You should already know how I got in."

"What do you want?" she sighed with an eye roll as she shifted her weight to one leg.

"I simply wanted to talk to you while you were unoccupied," he answered as he sat down in an auditorium seat.

"If it's about what you asked last night, the answer is still no. Besides, I'm occupied.

The man looked around at the empty theater. "I don't see anyone," he said as he lounged back in the seat.

"Quit being smart," she said, irritated. "I'm practicing for tonight's performance. I'm not perfect, you know."

"I'm not interrupting you. You're the one who decided to stop. Please continue, you don't have to talk."

With a heavy sigh Bryce picked up from where she left off.

"As is so happens I did come here to talk to you about last night.

"I figured," Bryce said as she bent down with her arm outstretched.

The man chuckled as he placed his arms behind his head. "Anyways, the offer is open indefinitely. Whenever you're ready for a change, Gotham is waiting."

"I seriously doubt I'll ever go there, unless I feel like visiting my roots."

"Your roots?" The reporter sat up and leaned forward, now interested.

"Yes. If you must know, my mother is from Gotham city."

"Ah, yes, the last name makes sense now," the reporter said as he pulled out a tiny notepad.

"What are you writing?" Bryce asked as she leaped off the stage. She grabbed for the notepad but the man was too quick.

Jumping for the notepad like a grade-schooler, Bryce growled angrily. With a sigh she stood still and placed her hands on her hips impatiently.

"No need to worry. Anything I write about you is good."

"Good or bad I'd rather not have my family involved in this. Especially not my mother.

He pocketed the pad inside his coat with a smile. "You have nothing to worry about."

"I'll be keeping tabs on your column to make sure. And as for the offer, your benefactor may as well close it. I'll never go there."

"Whatever you say. He's a stubborn man. Just don't be surprised if a letter arrives from him asking you again."

"I'll burn it before I read it. Now please leave, I have to finish practicing." She turned away from him and jumped back onto the stage, assuming her last position. By the time she made it through three moves she heard the auditorium door click shut.

That night the theater was packed as usual. Tonight she had a treat for them. During the week she taught a dance class and tonight was their first show of the season. They would perform before her so their spotlight wouldn't be ruined by biased audience members.

As her students' dance number ended and the music stopped, Bryce stood out of site behind the curtains. As the kids walked by she congratulated them all one by one and promised them a party for their next class.

The curtains closed on the stage and the lights dimmed. It was Bryce's turn to dance. She tip toed on stage and stood ready in her first position, waiting for the curtains to open and the music to start.

Slowly the curtains were pulled up, revealing her bit by bit, and the music began to play. Her arms moved as if they had a mind of their own and she began her dance.

During the performance she had the peculiar feeling she was being watched. It wouldn't have been so unnerving if she didn't feel like the person watching her was trying to drill a hole through her. She was used to being watched, it was the whole point of opening a theater. As she took a turn she glanced quickly out into the crowd.

The bright lights prevented her from seeing much of the crowd but one man's face, sitting in the front row, stuck out in her mind. She would find him after the show and ask him why he watched her so intently.


	3. Chapter 3

People streamed through the auditorium door as Bryce stood out of the way, hidden, watching for the face of the man she saw. Man after man passed but there was still no sign of the one she was looking for.

Only a few people mingled in the lobby, talking of the performance and carrying on conversations about their day. Bryce sat on the stairs that led from the lobby up to the balcony seats. Her chin sat in her hand as she pouted over not finding the person who made her feel so irked while on stage.

As the last few people left she smiled kindly at them and wished them a good night and closed the doors behind them. She had to take care of the money from the ticket sales before she left. It would be a while before she got home. Tonight had been the last show for the month and she always waited until this night to gather the money and lock it up.

It was tedious work counting the money and tallying everything together. Expenses for the theater had to come first and then she could take the money she had earned and pocket it.

By the time she was done she looked at the clock hanging on the wall above the desk where the money sat. It was well past midnight. She knew her mother was asleep and so wouldn't be worrying but she still felt the need to hurry home.

Quickly putting the money for the bills in the safe and pocketing the large amount that was for her, she threw her jacket on and left the theater, making sure to lock it up.

She looked around the deserted street and started out home. Her senses were always alert when she walked home like this. The low level of noise on this side of the city always made her nervous.

Turning a corner onto the next street, Bryce found that many of the lights on this road had burned out or were smashed. Few people lived in these old buildings and most of the buildings had been condemned due to poor foundation structure. This side of the city was eagerly awaiting a reconstruction that would come with the next summer. It would once again be a respectable district.

Footsteps echoed behind her and she whirled around, her purse swinging at her side. No one was there. With a deep breath she turned around and saw the face of a stranger in front of her. He grabbed her quickly and she struggled to get free. She remembered a move she had seen on a movie once and hoped that she'd be able to mimic it. Without another thought she jumped and brought her legs up and bent her knees, bringing her feet crashing back into the attackers groin area. He groaned and let her go but another man jumped out from the shadows and punched her in the cheek.

Stars exploded in her head and she crumpled to the ground, beginning to black out. Just before her eyes closed she saw a dark figure leap out at the men and as the figure grabbed the first attacker her eyes shut and she was out.

When Bryce opened her eyes sometime later she found she was in her own bed. She sat up and looked around. Emma was sitting in a chair, her head on her chest as she slept.

Bryce got out of bed and then stopped and grabbed her head. It was pounding. Before she woke Emma up she went to the hall closet and pulled out a bottle of pain killers. When she had taken two she went back to her room and gently shook Emma.

The old woman opened her eyes and yawned. "You're up," she said as she smiled. "I'm glad you're not too badly hurt." She reached out and brushed her hand over Bryce's cheek. Bryce winced and then turned to the mirror on the wall. There was a bruise the size of a baseball just under her eye.

"How did I get here?" she asked as she turned back to Emma.

"I don't know. The doorbell rang and I didn't hear it at first because I was asleep. After a while I started to wake up and heard it ringing over and over again. I got up and answered the door and you were just lying there on the porch. I didn't see anyone around. I got you inside as fast as I could and locked the door. You've been out for a few hours." Emma yawned. "What happened to you?"

"Well I was leaving the theater after getting the money ready and I was attacked by two men. I got away from the first and then the other came out and punched me." She absentmindedly ran her fingers over the bruise. "The last thing I saw was a dark figure leaping out from the shadows and beating off the men. Now I'm here."

"That story gives me the shudders. Has anyone ever attempted to rob you?"

"No. But last night there was something odd. In the audience, in the front row, there was a man. He was watching me like no one else ever has. It was really creepy. I tried to find him after the show but the crowd was so big I couldn't pick him out."

"You don't think he paid those men to go after you, do you?"

"I have no idea and that was the last show of the month. If I'm lucky he'll be at the opening next month."

"You be careful from now on, alright?" Emma said worriedly.

"I will. Now you go on to bed. I don't want to keep you up any longer." Bryce helped Emma out of the chair and said goodnight to her as the older woman left the room.

When Bryce was alone in her room she went to her window and pulled back the curtains. Few lights were on at this time in the morning. In Bryce's opinion only fools woke up at this time. She yawned and decided to go back to bed. In the morning she could go back to the theater and get the money from the safe and begin paying bills.

In the morning when Bryce awoke she went into the kitchen for some breakfast. As she sat at the table eating her cereal Emma scurried into the kitchen and picked up the phone.

"Hi, this is Emma Dently and I need a doctor over to the Bardon residence as soon as you can manage."

Bryce was all ears now. When Emma hung the phone up Bryce caught her attention. "What's wrong?"

"You're mother isn't doing so well. I think something's wrong." With those words Emma and Bryce went into Melody Bardon's room.

Melody lay on the bed, her breathing coming fast and shallow. Bryce went to her mother and felt her forehead. She was cold as ice. Sitting on the bed, Bryce grabbed her mother's hand and squeezed it gently.

Opening her eyes, Melody smiled weakly. "Bryce," she said, her voice barely audible. "I don't think I can last much longer."

"Don't say that," Bryce told the woman. "You'll be fine."

"No. I can feel it." Her breathing continued to come fast. "I've fought this long enough. I want to go now."

"But you can't. There was so much you wanted to do."

"I know, honey. But things happen that change our lives forever."

The doorbell range and Emma ran to answer it. When she came back the doctor was with her.

"What's happened?" he asked as he pulled a chair up to the bed and ushered Bryce out of the way.

"When I checked on her earlier she was like this. Her breathing isn't deep enough and sometimes she passes out."

"When was the last time she passed out?" He held the stethoscope to Melody's chest.

"Shortly before I called for you," Emma answered. "She's been talking to her daughter since then."

"Melody?" the doctor asked.

"Yes?" she replied.

"You were diagnosed two months ago, right?"

"Yes."

"How long were you given?"

"A-a few months."

"Can you be more specific?"

"I can't remember."

The doctor looked at Emma. "Do you know?"

"Three months I believe. Maybe four," Emma said, wringing her hands worriedly. Bryce had sat down in a chair and was now trying desperately not to cry.

"It would seem that she won't make it until then," the doctor told them solemnly as he put his stethoscope away. "Her lungs are beginning to fail her and her heart is beating sporadically. She could potentially die from lack of air or a heart attack. The best that could happen is that she just falls asleep and never wakes up."

"I would like to die that way," Melody said and tried to laugh. The doctor placed his hand on her shoulder.

"We all would," he told her. "Ms. Bardon, I suggest you prepare yourself because I don't think you'll make it another day." He turned to Bryce and Emma. "As for you two, you need to start getting the arrangements in order, just in case. What I'm telling you is my professional opinion but I have seen a few miracles in my day. But it's best you think the worst, it's less of a sting that way." He stood with a sigh. "I'm sorry I couldn't tell you good news," he said. "I won't charge you for the house call. You have enough on your plate already." He patted Melody's shoulder and made his way to the door. Emma went after him to let him out.

Bryce took the vacated chair and leaned over onto the bed. Her mother reached up a shaky hand and placed it on Bryce's head. "Don't worry, dear. Everything's going to be fine."

"It's not. You're the only parent I have. I can't lose you."

"You're a grown woman. You shouldn't have been taking care of me. You should have been out on your own, finding a nice young man."

"Don't be silly, mother," Bryce laughed half-heartedly.

"Bryce?"

"Yes?" Bryce sat up and wiped her tears away.

"I have a request."

"Anything."

"I don't want to be buried here. I want to go home. Back to Gotham. My mother is buried there. Her body was sent back soon after her death. I would like to be put to rest next to her."

"Y-you want me to take you to Gotham city?"

"Please. I know I haven't told you much about it but I think if you take me back you have a chance at a better life. And-" Her breathing stopped for a moment and Bryce grasped her mother's hand, scared. Melody took a sudden breath and Bryce sighed in relief. "I'm sorry. But there's one more thing. I've told you stories of your father but I've never told you the whole truth."

"What?"

"Your father was a nice man but there were times he didn't think things through. When he found out that my father would disown me for seeing him he broke off the relationship. I tried to go back to him when I was thrown out of the house but he seemed nervous. He wasn't acting himself. He turned me away and I was forced to live on my own and find a job to support myself. In a way I hated him for doing that to me, but I suppose he had a good reason. If you take me back to Gotham you can find him. He doesn't know anything about you, though. I never got the chance to tell him. I want him in your life, but if he refuses, don't force him. Some men aren't meant for fatherhood." Her breathing stopped again and this time her eyes closed. Bryce held her own breath as she waited and hoped for her mother to wake up.

Melody Bardon exhaled and didn't take another breath. Her life had been used up and now she was at peace. When Bryce realized that her mother was gone she started to sob. Emma rushed in to see what the matter was and when she saw that Bryce was crying and Melody's eyes were closed she guessed what had happened. She, too, began to cry.


	4. Chapter 4

A month had passed since Melody Bardon's death and Bryce found herself stepping off a plane in Gotham city. The funeral was scheduled for the next day and Bryce had little time to get to the funeral home and get things started.

As she left the terminal and made her way to the baggage claim she looked out the windows at the city her mother grew up in. She supposed it held a certain beauty but things looked a little dirty. Shaking her head she made it to the baggage claim and sighed as she waited.

It was probably her narrow view on her grandfather that made her see Gotham as dirty. Suddenly a buzzer sounded and new luggage began to come out. As soon as Bryce found her bags she grabbed them and lugged them to the doors. Once she was through them she hailed a cab.

The first cab pulled up and she went to open the door but someone shoved her out of the way and got in. The driver didn't bother letting the passenger know he didn't stop for them. Instead he drove off and Bryce was left to wait for another taxi.

By the time she finally got one her feet were beginning to throb. The driver asked where she wanted to go and Bryce told him the name of the funeral home. Pulling out of the airport was a chore. Cars and people littered the area. Bryce remembered her mother telling her about how bad the population was in the city and that because of it the crime rate soared.

At the funeral home Bryce was bored almost to tears by the formalities. She only dealt with people she didn't know if she absolutely had to. Formality wasn't her thing. But she was lucky in that it didn't take as long as it normally would have due to the fact that Emma handled most of the preparations over the phone. Emma had done everything before when her grandmother died.

Two hours after she had arrived in the city, Bryce was on her way to a hotel.

The room she got was cheap but the hotel was a nice one. She wouldn't be caught dead in the bad part of the city.

No sooner had she set her bags down and flopped onto the bed did a knock sound on the door. Groaning she got up and went to the peep hole. As her eye fell on a man standing outside the door she groaned even harder. It was the reporter from a month ago.

Opening the door she placed her hands on her hips and eyed him angrily. "Can't a girl get a little peace and quiet before people start coming 'round?" she said with a heavy sigh. "What do you want?"

"It's a pleasure to see you again, too, Miss Bardon." The man touched a finger to his forehead, as if he wore a hat, and nodded. "May I come in?"

With a shrug, Bryce moved to let the man in. She may as well listen to him and get it over with.

"Thank you," he said as he took his coat off. "First off let me offer my condolences for the passing of your mother."

"Thank you, but it's not needed." She motioned for him to sit in the chair as she sat on the sofa and pulled her legs up to get comfortable.

"Well anyways I came here just to chat, really. I heard you were in town and thought I'd come and say hello." He smiled, the small dimple appearing on his left cheek.

"All right, spit it out," Bryce said, beginning to get irritated. "I had a long flight and need some sleep. You came here to ask if I'd open the theater now, right?"

"Well that's part of it. But I really did come here just to chat. I figured if you hadn't eaten dinner yet that you might like to go out."

"I'm listening," she replied. Her stomach had been aching for hours but she was too tired to go and look for a place now.

"There's a wonderful restaurant just a few streets over. If you would like to join me I have a reservation already made."

"Anything sounds good to me right now." She stood and put her shoes back on and threw her coat on as well. "Say, I've never gotten your name," she said as she handed the man his own coat.

"It's Greg."

"You have a last name to go with that?"

"I do," he laughed. "But I prefer to keep that to myself." He went to the door and opened it. "Shall we?" Bryce smirked at him as she passed out into the corridor.

The city was lit up by the buildings that were packed into it. Bryce was intrigued that the city hadn't gone to hell by now. As they walked she turned to Greg and asked, "So I take it the police force here in Gotham is exceptional?"

"Why do you ask that?" He laughed loudly.

"Well with so many people crammed together you'd think there are bound to be some scum bags lying underneath all this."

"You're right about the scum bags," he chuckled. "The police force does what they can but they're nothing to boast about. This city is only kept as nice as it is by one man."

"One?"

"They call him the Batman. He's a hero here."

"The Batman?" Bryce began to laugh. "What kind of hero is he? Don't tell me he dresses up in those silly costumes I've heard my mother mention." Greg grinned at her and Bryce stopped laughing and only stared at the reporter. "Please tell me it's not true."

"As silly as it might seem he's really quite scary, especially if you're on the wrong end of the law."

"Yeah right," she scoffed. "I'll believe it when I see it."

"You might get the chance. But you'd have to be out in a fairly poor part of the city at night. He likes to use the shadows."

"The Batman," Bryce said with a snort and shook her head. "Honestly."

When they made it to the restaurant Bryce was surprised to see that it was no burger joint. The inside was warmly lit by candles and dim bulbs that lined the wall in sconces and hung from small chandeliers.

"Reservation, sir?" the hostess asked as they entered.

"Ah yes," Greg answered. "It's under the name of Gregory H." Greg saw Bryce's raised eyebrow look from the corner of his eye and chuckled. "There are plenty of last names that start with h. Take your pick," he told her while the hostess looked up the name.

"Here it is," she said and then waved an idle server over. "Could you please seat these two at table eight?" The server nodded and turned to Greg and Bryce with a large smile.

"Right this way," he told them and walked off, Greg and Bryce following after him.

"I feel so under dressed," Bryce whispered to the man.

"You're not alone," he replied. "I wasn't wearing the nicest clothing either, remember?"

The waiter stopped at a small table with four chairs and pulled Bryce's seat out for her. She smiled politely at the man and sat down as he helped push the chair back in.

"Here are your menus," he told them as he handed over the booklets. "I'll be right with you in a moment to get your drink order." The waiter nodded his head as Greg thanked him and then walked off to help more customers.

"So how does a reporter have the money to eat here?" asked Bryce as she looked her menu over thoughtfully.

"A very good one," Greg told her after he closed his own menu and set it down. "Not to mention my friend helps me out sometimes."

"Ah, the man who wants me to open a theater in his city."

"Correct. Speaking of that, what will you do now that you have no real ties to your hometown?"

Looking at the man over her menu, Bryce gave him an annoyed glare. "You really don't quit, do you?" She sighed and spoke before he could answer. "I really have no idea. I suppose I'll spend some time here on vacation and see what happens. Who knows? I could end up staying for good."

"We'd be happy to have you," Greg said as he raised his water glass in a small toast.

It wasn't long before the waiter came back and took their orders for their drinks and food. They talked of every day things while they waited to eat.

It was during this conversation that Greg looked passed Bryce as she was telling him about her dance school. Bryce stopped talking and turned to see what Greg was staring at.

A man old enough to be her grandfather had just walked into the restaurant. His hair was still partially black and he was fit for how old he seemed. As she stared, the man noticed and smiled with a wave. He said something to the hostess and she nodded to him before he walked over.

"I didn't think I'd see you in town, Gregory," the man said. Bryce liked his deep, husky voice, it was almost soothing.

"Mr. Wayne!" Greg said and stood to shake the man's hand. "So good to see you. Won't you join us?"

"Not this time," he chuckled. "I'm meeting someone here." As he said that he looked down at Bryce. "And who is this lovely young lady?" He held out his hand and Bryce took it and shook, noticing that his hands were calloused despite his clean cut appearance.

"Oh, forgive me," Greg said hastily. "This is Bryce Bardon. She's in town for her mother's funeral."

"Bardon?" Mr. Wayne said. "I thought the only Bardons in the city were Harris Bardon and he died two years ago. As far as I know he didn't have any relatives nearby." As Bryce watched him she saw the look of sudden realization dawn on his face. "Don't tell me you're Melody Bardon's daughter?"

"Yes, sir, I am" Bryce answered.

"Little Melody passed away?"

"Last month, Mr. Wayne."

"What a shame. What happened?"

"She was diagnosed with the same cancer her mother was. She was given three to four months but the illness took her before then. Her last request was to be buried next to her mother here in Gotham."

"Well that's nice that you're honoring that. I hadn't heard anything about her in over twenty years. I thought she had gone on a trip across Europe. At least that's what Harris told me."

"No, sir. She did go to Europe, though. I probably shouldn't be spreading this around but she was disowned for seeing a man her father didn't approve of."

"I see. Harris was always the controlling type. You're mother was old enough to make her own decisions the last time I saw her." Mr. Wayne suddenly looked at the door and then turned back to Greg and Bryce with an apologetic smile. "Sorry to make this so short but my friend has arrived." He looked at Bryce. "I'd like to talk to you some more if you don't mind, Miss Bardon."

"Please, call me Bryce."

"Bryce," he said with a smile. "Here's my phone number and address," he said and handed her a small card. "Whenever you get the time give me a call and we'll set up a time you can come over for a drink or two."

"I'd like that," she said with a smile.

"Then it's settled. I'll see you another time." With that he walked off to meet his friend.

Shortly after Mr. Wayne left their food was sat on their table. "Looks delicious," Bryce said looking at her plate.

"It is. Go ahead and eat, you must be starving."

Bryce didn't need telling twice to start in on her food. She picked up her fork and began eating. "Wow, this is amazing," she said after she swallowed her first bite. "I'll have to remember this place."

"If you ever want a dinner partner just give me a call," Greg laughed. "I'll give you my number after dinner."

Soon dinner was over and Greg walked Bryce back to the hotel. As they stood in front of the door to Bryce's room Greg wrote his number on a paper from his note pad and handed it to her.

"There you are," he said and smiled. "By the way, what day is the funeral? I'd like to attend."

"It's two days from now at one in the afternoon. It'll be at the funeral home closest to the cemetery where all the Bardons are buried."

"I know which one you're talking about. I'll be there. Well I'd better let you get some sleep, it's getting late. Have a good day tomorrow."

"You too," Bryce said as Greg turned and walked back down the hall. When he was out of sight she turned to her door and used the card key to open it.

When she was inside she shut the door and fell onto her bed with a sigh. She was exhausted and now her stomach was full. A long sleep was what she now needed.


	5. Chapter 5

On Saturday morning, the day of Melody's funeral, Bryce was busy getting ready. For two days she had explored the city, going into shops that caught her interest and visiting the sights.

Now she had to do what she came here for. She'd leave for the funeral home as soon as she was ready and help set everything up. Food had been ordered for afterwards and would be set up in the reception room the funeral home offered.

When Bryce had first set eyes on the building she was shocked. Most funeral homes were small. This one was large and contained more than one room to hold the wakes.

Her make-up on and her clothing fixed so she didn't look like an unmade bed, Bryce stood outside the hotel trying to get a Taxi to stop.

When a cab finally pulled over for her she got in and told the drive where to go. Within minutes she was handing the driver his money and walking into the funeral home.

Inside, Bryce passed by two rooms that were currently in use. When she made it to the one designated for her mother she turned and went in. The funeral director was already there giving out orders. When she saw Bryce she smiled and walked up and hugged Bryce.

"How does everything look so far?" the woman asked as she stepped back.

"Looks great, Mary. What should I do?"

"Oh there's no need to worry yourself about that," Marry said with a laugh. "I have enough people taking care of it." Her smile faded as she looked at her employees. "Unfortunately the funeral business is fairly prosperous in this city. It's not as good as it used to be so I should be happy about that, but even still."

"I'm not surprised," Bryce replied as she, too, looked at the people setting up the chairs. "Well I don't know what I'm doing here, then, if I don't need to help."

"Normally what I have the family members of the deceased do is spend a little time with the one they lost. Your mother is in another room that we use for that purpose. If you'd like to follow me?"

Bryce started after the woman as she led the way down the hall, around a corner, and through a door that had been locked. "When you're finished in here you can go into the reception room at the end of this hall and have a look over the food. If you get bored before the ceremony starts we have some magazines out in the lobby you can look at. There are a few books, too." Mary looked at the open casket sitting on a gilded stand and then turned back to Bryce with a sympathetic smile. "I remember Melody very well. We used to go to school together. We weren't good friends but she tried to be nice to everyone." She placed her hand on Bryce's shoulder and squeezed gently then let go and left the room, closing the door behind her.

Approaching the casket, Bryce's heart thudded in her chest. She knew it was stupid to feel afraid of a body, especially her mother's, but there was still something a little creepy about it. As she looked at her mother's peaceful face her eyes started to burn as tears threatened to come.

She squeezed her eyes shut and held her breath for a moment to calm herself. Her hands shook as she reached out to put them on the side of the box. As she got nearer, the tears she had tried not to shed began to overflow and fall down her cheeks. "Goodbye, mom," she said quietly.

Suddenly the door opened and Bryce gasped and whirled around, startled by the sudden noise. Standing in the doorway was a man with black hair fixed neatly. His blue eyes looked at her in confusion.

"I'm sorry I must be in the wrong room. Do you happen to know what room Melody Bardon is in?" he said.

"This is her," Bryce answered him, motioning at the coffin behind her. The man walked forward and looked inside at the woman's body.

"I'm sorry if I startled you," he said, still looking at the body. He slowly turned to Bryce, giving her that same confused look, and asked, "Who are you? I don't believe Melody really had any close friends; thanks to her father."

"I'm not her friend," Bryce answered.

"Then who are you?" he asked before Bryce could continue.

"Melody is my mother. My name's Bryce Bardon. Who are you?"

The man looked Bryce over carefully before he spoke. "My name is Richard Grayson, but just call me Dick." He hesitantly held out his hand and Bryce took it to shake.

"What are you doing here so early? The wake doesn't start until another hour."

"I was a good friend of your mother's. I was informed a few days ago about her death by my friend. I just got here yesterday."

"Who's your friend? I remember all the names on the invitations and yours wasn't one of them."

"Bruce Wayne. Melody's father was a business friend of his. I met your mother at one of his Christmas parties a long time ago."

Something sparked in Bryce's memory about the story of how her mother met her father. She remembered something about a Christmas party. She shook her head lightly, putting the thought from her mind.

"Is something wrong?" Dick asked.

"Oh, no, nothing's wrong." Bryce looked at Dick thoughtfully. "If you and my mom were friends how come she never mentioned you? She kept in touch with those she knew well."

Dick rubbed the back of his neck. "Well Melody and I didn't exactly part on good terms."

"I see."

"Here you are, Dick," said a deep voice from behind Bryce. She turned and saw Mr. Wayne standing there. "I see you've met Ms. Bardon's daughter." Bruce smiled at Bryce. "Nice to see you again, Bryce."

"Same to you, Mr. Wayne," Bryce said as the man walked in and looked solemnly at Melody's body.

"Cancer's an ugly thing," he said quietly and then looked back at Dick and Bryce.

"Heh, yeah." She wasn't quite sure what to say to his comment.

"I hope you don't mind my bringing Dick along. He and your mother were very close."

"He told me they were friends," she said. She saw Bruce and Dick exchange looks but decided not to comment.

"How about we talk about something more cheerful?" Mr. Wayne said. "I don't think your mother would want us moping around."

"I guess not," Bryce answered with a small laugh.

"What is it you do, Bryce?" asked Bruce. "I didn't get the chance to ask you the first time we met."

"I have my own theater back home where I perform dance routines with songs. They aren't like a dinner show. I like more serious dances and songs. I also teach at a dance school. I'd teach voice lessons but I'm afraid that my singing isn't quite as good as my dancing. My mother always said I was a natural."

"How long have you been dancing?"

"Since I was little. I started voice lessons before I started taking dance lessons, though. I've always loved performing in front of a crowd."

"Is that so?" Bruce said and Bryce was sure there was something behind the reply.

"Yeah. I make good money from my theater. Being a dance instructor was something I was doing before I opened the theater so I couldn't exactly give that up."

"I know how that is."

Someone knocked on the door then opened it. Mary poked her head around the door and smiled. "You three should go on into the wake room. There are a few other guests who decided to come early. I'm keeping them out in the lobby until we get the casket out."

"Alright," Bryce said. "Well it was nice talking to you. I'll probably come around tomorrow, if that's fine with you Mr. Wayne?"

"No problem at all. Just give me a call before you do," he replied. "Let's go, Dick." He clasped the younger man's shoulder and ushered him from the room after Bryce.

As she stopped in front of the door that led into the room assigned to her mother's funeral, Bryce glanced at the lobby. There was a crowd of people milling around, talking quietly. She knew very few of the people who would be attending the wake. She hated that she would need to meet all these new folk who seemed to know her mother in one way or another.

Moments later the wake rook was filled with the guests. Bryce stood by her mother's body, smiling politely and thanking those that offered their condolences. This was one thing she hated about funerals, all the people talking in hushed tones and giving you pitying glances out of the corners of their eyes. It was more than she could handle.

Taking one of the few moments of lull in the people wishing to look at Melody Bardon's body, Bryce slipped, unnoticed, out a side door and into a corridor. Looking around, she saw no on else in the hall and so made her way to the lobby so she could go outside. Fresh air would be nice.

She breathed deep the scents of the city. On this side of Gotham the air was cleaner. With a sigh of relief she exhaled and took a seat on a bench that sat just under the stone overhang on the building.

"Is it _that_ bad?" Bryce jumped at the voice and looked to her right to see Greg standing there with a bouquet in one hand.

"For me? Yeah, it is," she breathed. "S'that for my mom?" she asked, nodding at the bouquet.

Greg looked down at it and laughed. "Actually they're for you. My friend thought you might like them. He picked them out. Here," he said and handed the flowers over as he took a seat. "It seems you've become comfortable around me."

"Huh?" she said as she sniffed the arrangement.

"Oh, well you were pretty uptight the first two times I talked to you."

"Actually, I wasn't. You would act like I did if you had a dying mother at home and some stranger wanted you to just up and leave right then."

"I guess," he shrugged. They sat in silence for a moment, both watching the cars go by, and then Greg spoke up. "I have a question."

"What is it?"

"Where's your father?"

"What kind of a question is that? A little personal, don't you think?"

"Well I'm a reporter. I'm supposed to get personal. Where is he?"

"I have no idea. I grew up without him. My mom said things didn't work out between them and then her dad found out about him and then she was disinherited."

"I see." He turned to look at her. "So are you going to try and find him?"

"My mother wanted me to. She told me he was probably somewhere in this city. She said she wanted us to know each other. He doesn't even know about me."

"Wow. If you find him, how are you going to break it to him?"

"Don't know. How could I break it to him? Something like that is not simple."

"Do you know his name?"

"Nope. The only things I know about him are that he and my mother met at a Christmas party and he lives here."

"Those aren't very good clues. What about your birth certificate? Your mother must have put his name on it."

"She might've. I've never seen my birth certificate. I was born in that city where you found me. I grew up with a rich family, went to the same private school their children went to, graduated high school and then opened my theater with the money I'd made teaching at the dance academy. There was no need to think about anything that tied me to this place. My mother rarely talked of it and I never asked her. Why would I when I had a good life?"

"I suppose that's a good reason. But you're still going to have to get a hold of your birth certificate. If you'd like I could do it for you. I've got connections."

"I'll hold you to that if I decide to actually look for him."

"Bryce Bardon!" Greg and Bryce looked at the speaker and saw Mary standing there, her hands on her wide hips. "You're supposed to be in there greeting and talking to the guests."

Groaning Bryce stood. "You may be used to all of this but I've only been to one funeral in my life and I had hoped it would be a good long while before I ever went to another one."

"I know your mother taught you patience. Now come on," Mary said as she waved the two inside. Bryce looked back at Greg who stood there trying not to laugh.


	6. Chapter 6

An hour after her mother had been buried people were still conversing in the reception room. Bryce sat at a table by herself, pondering her glass of punch. Greg had gone home right after the burial and Bryce noticed that anyone she might've known even a little had disappeared a while ago. She wanted to go so she could get on with her life. She hated thinking about things that could never be.

Someone sat down across from her and she looked up into the eyes of Bruce Wayne. "I thought you had gone home," she said, pushing her cup to the side.

"If I had I would have told you. Dick left a while ago, though. I'm afraid he's not the best at these things."

"I kind of figured. So what went on between him and my mother that they parted on bad terms? He mentioned that."

"I don't think I can tell you that. But I will tell you that Dick and Melody were more than just friends."

"You mean they were lovers?"

Bruce chuckled. "They could have been. They were certainly old enough to make that decision. They dated over the course of a few months and then one day Dick told me it was over. He didn't bother explaining it to me, though, and I didn't bother prying."

"I see."

"Well I need to get going. I really just came to let you know that. I'll be looking forward to your visit tomorrow. Stay out of trouble, now." Bryce stood to hug Bruce as he got up to leave. With a small smile she waved goodbye to him as he disappeared into the crowd of nameless faces.

The next day, Bryce lounged around in her pajamas watching T.V. and ordering room service. She figured she might as well live it up while she visited.

Suddenly the phone rang and she put down her bowl of ice cream as she leaped to answer it.

"Hello?" she asked into the receiver.

"Yes, Miss Bardon, this is the front desk. You asked to be called at this time."

"Oh, right! Thank you very much." With that she hung up the phone as the clerk said bye.

Bryce rummaged around in her purse for Bruce's number. Pulling it out she picked up the phone and dialed the number to call out of the hotel. Staring at the card she carefully punched in the man's number and waited as the phone rang.

"Wayne residence," said the familiar voice on the other end.

"Ah yes, Bruce?

"Is this Bryce?"

"Yes, sir, it is. I was just calling to ask about coming over today."

"That's right." He paused for a moment and then said, "If you'd like you can come over now and have dinner with me. Dick is here and he'll be joining us."

"Oh, alright then. Well I'll be over as soon as possible."

"Actually I'll send someone over to pick you up. Be ready in about ten minutes. Be waiting outside, please."

"That's fine. Thank you so much, Mr. Wayne."

Bruce laughed. "Please, just Bruce."

Bryce laughed and told him goodbye and began to get ready.

Bryce waited outside on the curb for the car that would take her to Bruce's house. When a shiny, expensive looking car pulled up and a chauffeur got out Bryce took a breath. She'd forgotten how rich Mr. Wayne was."

"Miss. Bardon?" the driver asked as he approached her. Bryce nodded. "How are you today, ma'am?"

"I'm fine, thank you." She smiled to the driver as he opened the door so she could get in.

Minutes later and Bryce was being let into the gigantic house that was Wayne Manor. She was taken to the dining room where she saw Bruce and Dick sitting at the table conversing.

Both men looked at her as she entered. Only Bruce smiled. "I hope calling so late wasn't a bother," she said as she took a set on Mr. Wayne's left. "I needed some time to relax."

"No bother at all, Bryce. I'm happy to feed you instead of you wasting your money on expensive hotel food."

Bryce laughed at him as she looked at the plate of food now being set in front of her. "You don't call this expensive?" Bruce began to chuckle with her as he looked down at his own food.

"So you knew my grandfather?" she asked a little while into the meal.

"I did," Bruce answered her as he dabbed his mouth and set the napkin down. "We were both businessmen and your grandfather was always trying to outdo me. He liked the saying, 'keep your friends close and your enemies closer."

"I can see that. My mother never talked of him. My aunt- well she wasn't really my aunt- told me he wasn't a very likable man to those who weren't in business. I heard he had a temper."

"It's true," Bruce said bluntly. "I think that's one reason why he never did as well as he could have. He tended to fire most of his employees that rubbed him the wrong way."

"I guess I'm glad I never knew him." She snorted quietly and added, "There were a lot of men I never knew." She took a sip of her wine. "I'm sorry I don't mean to be so serious. There's just been a lot on my mind lately."

"It's alright. We all have our dark sides," Bruce said with a warm smile. He sat back and looked at the table. "If everyone is done, why don't we go into the sitting room and talk some more?"

They all stood and went to the sitting room. Bryce took a chair by herself as did Dick. Bruce sat on the large, plush couch. As they settled themselves Bryce and Dick crossed one leg over the other and sat back.

"So tell me Bryce," Bruce began. "How was your mother up until her illness? I'm afraid she never kept in touch with me."

"She was wonderful. My grandmother's housekeeper, my aunt, helped her get a job with a family she had just taken a job with. The family was very kind to her- and to me. I was raised with the employers' children and attended the same schools as they did. I had the best money could buy when it came to education. My mom seemed truly happy most of the time."

"Most of the time?" The older man inquired.

"Well, there were moments when she looked as if she was far away. She would just sit there as if she were daydreaming and sigh. I could also hear her crying sometimes after the rest of the house had gone to bed. It was like that for as long as I can remember. It makes me wonder if she missed my father."

"She never began seeing other men?" Dick suddenly cut in.

"No. As far as I was concerned it was as if she never even had a man. My aunt didn't know who my father was and my mother never spoke of him. All I know is that the day I was born she was asked if I'd have my father's name and she told them I'd never know him. I guess she was trying to protect me but I still feel that she kept a part of me locked away with her past." Bryce paused for a moment. "I just remembered something else. Once, when my mother was in one of her daydreaming states she told me I looked just like my dad. So I guess he had black hair and blue eyes." For a moment she let her eyes flick to Dick, luckily he wasn't looking at her.

"If you'd like I could find your birth records and tell you who your father is," Bruce suggested.

"That's not a problem. I've got a friend working on that at the moment."

"Greg?"

"How did you know?"

Bruce chuckled. "Greg is always looking for anything interesting and if you don't mind my saying I'd bet that he has taken a liking to you."

"Stop," Bryce said with a small laugh as she flapped her hand at him. "He's just someone I know from back home. He came to one of my recitals and bugged me to no end. He had this bogus idea from someone here that I come and open a theater. I told him no because my mom still needed me. It wasn't long after he proposed the idea to me that she died. Maybe it was fate."

"Maybe," Bruce repeated.

While Bruce and Bryce continued to talk Dick stood and left the room. Bryce watched after him, slightly confused.

"Don't worry about him. He's just upset over your mother's death. When she left he never heard from her again." Bruce sighed as he stared in the direction Dick had gone. "At first I thought things were fine. He seemed a little angry with himself but then he started to become distant. It didn't take long for him to bury whatever feelings he was having, though."

"I wonder how close he and my mom really were," Bryce said, almost inaudibly.

Days passed and Bryce was still in her hotel room. She had busied herself with visiting the local sites, having meals with Greg, and visiting Bruce Wayne.

On a day when Bryce was leaping about her room, making sure she didn't grow rusty, her phone rang. Answering it, she heard Greg's voice on the other end.

"I found documents of your birth. It wasn't easy, you know."

"What? You want some kind of payment for all your hard work?" she joked.

"Something like that. How about you treat me to a meal this time? You can choose this time."

"Alright," she agreed with a laugh. "But you have to pick me up."

"You drive a hard bargain, Miss Bardon."

"Never play too easy to get, I always say." With a laugh she said goodbye and hung up the phone to start getting ready.

Within moments she was called downstairs where Greg waited with a taxi.

"Nice ride, Greg," she teased.

"I know how you like those rich types," Bryce rolled her eyes, "but you'll just have to settle for me for now." He opened the door for her and she jumped in.

At the restaurant they ordered their drinks and food and Greg pulled out a manila envelope. Setting it on the table between them he laid his hand on it.

"I haven't read anything further than your name. I'm curious to know who your father is just as much as you are, but I'm not rude. If you don't want to tell me, that's your business."

"Thanks, Greg," Bryce said as she slowly slid the envelope from under his hand. "This means a lot." With unsteady hands she pulled up the metal tabs and opened the flap. She turned the envelope upside down and shook the paper out. Her eyes flicked over the printed letters and her breath caught in her throat.

Her eyes still on the paper she set it down on the table, her mouth slightly open in shock. "I had a feeling but I wasn't sure. W-why would she leave him?"

"Is it too early to ask the name?" Greg interrupted her rambling. With a shake of her head she looked at him and then handed over the paper. Greg went right to the names of her parents and he, too, was shocked.

"So you're the sole heir to the Bardon fortune and your father is the adopted heir to the Wayne fortune. You're one rich girl, Bryce."

"I wonder if he knew."

"I doubt it." Greg took a sip of his drink. "Rumor has it that before your mother left town she and Dick called it quits. That was over half a year before you were born, Melody probably wasn't even showing then."

"I have to know what went on between those two. He seems a little cold but Bruce tells me that's just because of my mother's death."

"Dick is a nice enough man. I've never seen a thing wrong with him. He can be a little hasty to take action sometimes but he's never been known to be mean."

"What happened to him after my mom left?"

"Well from what I hear he stayed here for quite some time then went to a city called Bludhaven for a while and then to New York. He's been traveling between here and New York for some time now. Bruce has been urging him to stick around. He's getting old and wants some company. Those two were inseparable for many years."

"I should talk to him."

"Are you sure? He may not want to talk about it."

"I'll make him talk about it. He has to live up to his past sometime."

Bryce called Emma the next day. She had questions for her aunt.

"Did you know about this?" she asked her aunt over the phone.

"I did, Bryce."

"And you didn't think to tell me?"

"I wanted Melody to do it in her own time. The night she died she tried to tell you, if you think back."

"Did she ever tell you why she didn't tell him?"

"Melody told me after many years of my nagging her about it. The night her father disowned her she had gone over to Mr. Grayson's house to tell him. That's the night he told her it was over. He had found out what your grandfather would do if they dated each other. He didn't want her to get hurt."

"Bruce? Is Dick staying with you while he's in town?"

"Yes he is, why?"

"I was wondering if I might have a talk with him."

"Well he's not in at the moment but I'll give him the message."

"Actually, if you could, would you just give me a call when he gets in? I'd like to catch him when he can't escape."

Laughing Bruce answered her, "Alright. He should be in not too long from now."

While Bryce waited for Bruce's call she couldn't sit still. She paced the room and turned the television on so as to keep her mind from focusing on the topic of her father. She practiced old dance routines and ordered room service but barely touched her food.

Finally the phone rang, it was Bruce.

"Did you want to talk to him now?" he asked.

"Yes, please."

Seconds passed in silence and then, "Hello?"

"Dick?"

"Yes? Who's this?"

"It's Bryce Bardon."

"Oh." He hesitated. "Is there something I can help you with?"

"I was wondering if you had eaten dinner yet."

"No, not yet. What are you getting at?"

"Would you care to meet me somewhere? I can pay."

"I don't know, Bryce. I have some things I need to do-"

"It's about my mother," she said quickly. A long silence followed.

"Fine," he sighed. "Don't worry about paying, I'll pay. I'll pick you up in a few minutes."

Bryce sat across from Dick, both fidgeted quietly and looked anywhere but at each other. When their food was sat before them Bryce finally spoke.

"I'd like to know what exactly went on between you and my mother."

Dick nearly choked on his food as he looked up, meeting her eyes for the first time that night. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me. Everyone tells me you two were close and I've even heard that you were dating. But no one ever tells me more."

"I don't kiss and tell," he replied as he looked back to his food.

"So you two _were_ an item."

"I never said that."

"But you just implied it. In the very least, you two kissed at least once." She didn't bother with her food as she continued to bombard the man with questions. "Did you go out on a few dates? Was it just a fling? Did you two ever…you know?"

"What?" he nearly shouted. "Where do you get ideas that that?"

Bryce wasn't about to tell him just yet. She wanted to get him to admit what kind of relationship he had with her mother. "Just tell me. She was my mother, I think I have a right to know if she ever actually loved anyone."

"I don't know about love-"

"Ah ha! So you two did date!"

"Hush!" he hissed as he looked around the restaurant. With a sigh he put his fork down. "Yes, Melody and I dated. We were together for quite some time. I don't know if she really loved me but she sure seemed like it."

"Why did you to split up? My mother is very stubborn. Once she sets her mind on something, nothing could stop her."

"I broke it off with her."

"But why?"

"Your grandfather had forbidden her to see me. When he found out we were dating he came straight to me and told me to stay away from her. He said if I continued see his daughter he'd disown her and make sure my life would be miserable."

"But he disowned her anyways. It's why she ran away."

"I know. He did it the night I broke it off with her. I tried to get in touch with her but Mr. Bardon wouldn't tell me where she was." Dick shrugged. "He probably didn't know. It was as if she disappeared. I only heard that she had moved out of the country from one of her old acquaintances at a party. They didn't know where she was exactly and I figured she didn't want anything to do with me. Things happened after she left. I've met other women since her."

"But you're not married."

"No, and I probably never will be. I'm too busy for love."

"Psh." Bryce drank some of her water. "No one is too busy for love."

"You have no idea." Suddenly he looked at the time. "Is there anything else you wanted to ask? I have things I need to do tonight."

"Actually, there's something I need to tell you."

"Yes?"

Rummaging around in her bag, she pulled out the hospital paper and handed it over. Dick looked at her quizzically as he took the document and then looked at what he held.

Minutes ticked by as Dick continued to stare at the paper in his hands. Finally Bryce got his attention.

"Th-this is impossible," he said, now looking at her.

"Why?"

"Melody and I only- only once. She said she wasn't ready after that and wanted to wait."

"If you didn't know, once is all it can take."

"Why didn't she tell me?"

"She tried. The night you broke up with her she had come over to tell you."

"I'm sorry but I have to go."

"What?" They both stood.

"Here's the money for the meal. Have a good night, Bryce." He took one last, long look at her and then fled the restaurant.

The pillow hit the wall with a dull thump that didn't satisfy Bryce in the least. She wanted to hear something smash. It wasn't how she wanted things to go.

She sat down with sigh and rubbed her eyes. What did she expect? He hadn't seen her mother in over twenty years and now, suddenly, he had a daughter.

"I'd be upset too if I found out I turned away a woman I like when she was pregnant and didn't even know it," she said quietly to herself.


	7. Chapter 7

The next day Bryce got up early and ordered breakfast. After she had eaten she got ready and headed out. She planned to go to Wayne Manor and talk to Dick again. She was sure all he needed was to really think about it and she would help him do that.

The large door opened moments after Bryce rang the doorbell. A tall man in a butler's outfit stood there.

"May I help you?" he asked.

"Yes, I'm looking for Mr. Grayson. Is he home?"

"He is. Who may I say is here?"

"Just tell him Bryce wants to speak with him, please." As the butler let her in, closed the door, and went to find Dick, Bryce twiddled her thumbs nervously. She studied the hall where she stood. It seemed old. A chill went through her and she rubbed her arms, feeling the goosebumps that had risen there.

Footsteps sounded on the stone floor and Bryce turned her head. Dick was walking towards her, the look on his face not one of welcome.

Today he wore a pair of blue jeans and an old, faded t-shirt. In some ways, in the far corner of her mind, Bryce wished he wasn't her father. He was very handsome.

"I'd like for you to leave," he said before she had the chance to speak.

"But I'd like to talk to you."

"I can't talk right now. I-" he had looked into her eyes. She was looking up at him, her eyes wet with tears. "You don't understand what's going on in my head right now Bryce. I'll talk to you when I'm ready." He placed his hands on her shoulder and turned her towards the door.

Bryce looked back at him as he put his hand on the door handle. He looked away from her as he opened the door and pushed her out.

That night Bryce was still angry about Dick not talking to her. She had tried calling him but he told her he didn't want to talk or see her and then hung up on her.

She was in a foul mood and wanted to let loose. Picking up a phone book she looked through the yellow pages for night clubs. She closed her eyes and picked one at random. This club was nearly across the city. She would have to spend some money on a taxi to get to it.

The club was loud and full of people. She found it odd that so many people wanted to come here when this part of the city wasn't the best looking. She figured it must be the price of the drinks that drew people to it. She had expected to pay more than what she did for one.

The night deepened and Bryce had had too many drinks. She was on one of the stages dancing and teasing the men that stood below her. The music thudded in her ears and the voices echoed. It was as if she was dancing in water as she saw her arm move slowly in front of her.

A touch on her side. She stopped dancing and turned to see a strange, but gorgeous, man standing there. He smiled at her and helped her off the stage. She didn't protest with her body but her mind started sending up warning flags as she saw she was being taken towards the door. She couldn't get her body to do what she wanted.

She was outside now, the air chilling her bones. She tried to struggle as she was being walked away from the club. The man had her arms firmly between his own arm and his body.

It was getting quiet. All she could hear were their footsteps on the pavement. He stopped by a car and one of the doors opened. Another man got out.

"What took you so long?" he asked.

"It was worth it wasn't it?" He gently shook Bryce.

"Eh just get her in the car."

Her mind was racing and she tried to free herself. Tried to use the self defense techniques she had learned after that night she had nearly been robbed. Her body wasn't cooperating.

As tears came to her eyes while the man forced her into the car all she managed to do was let out a small, strangled cry for help. It echoed off the dark buildings that surrounded her. No one would hear her.

The door shut with a jarring thud and Bryce was now sobbing. Then she realized she wasn't being held. She went for the door handle but it didn't work. She tried the other door, it too, wasn't opening.

"Child locks," said the man in the driver's seat. "They are a nice thing to have."

Bryce laid down on the seat and put her face in her hands as she continued to cry. How could she have let this happen to her?

Something slammed into the car. Bryce was startled out of her tears. She looked up and saw the man from the club sprawled on the windshield. The driver got out of the car to check and she saw something dart past and the man was gone.

Taking her chance, she climbed between the two front seats and opened the passenger door.

Stepping out onto the pavement she took a deep breath. The man on the windshield groaned and began to move. Bryce stepped back. All her training spun through her head but she knew she was too drunk to do any of the moves correctly.

The man saw that she was out of the car and tried to get up. Bryce stepped back more as he fell off the hood. As he stood up he was thrown back to the ground by his friend who had landed on him. Bryce looked up and saw someone descending from a fire escape. He landed on the ground between her and the men. His back was to her.

She studied him. He wore a skin tight, black suit that had some sort of blue design around the shoulders.

He turned his head so he could see her out the corner of his eye. She saw he wore a mask. "Are you alright?" he asked, his voice a bit husky.

"Y-yes, thank you," she managed to say.

He didn't bother saying anything else to her as he approached the men lying on the ground. They groaned and looked up. Both began to try and escape but he grabbed them and threw them both into the car. Then he used their seatbelts to tie them up.

"I'll take you home," he said to her as he shut the door.

"What about them?"

"They'll be taken care of. Come on." He reached out and pulled her to him. "We have to take the roofs until I find my bike. I hope you don't mind heights." She shook her head.

When they got to his bike he handed her a helmet and she looked at him oddly.

"You want a ride home with me you put on the helmet." He swung his leg over the seat and settled onto the bike. Bryce slid the bulky thing over her head and fixed the strap.

"Where do you live?"

"The hotel closest to the airport."

As they rode off Bryce remembered what Greg had said about a hero protecting the city.

"Are you the Batman?" she asked and received a laugh.

"No. I'm standing in for him. You can call me Nightwing."

"A hero needs a stand in?"

"Even heroes need vacations."

Once she was back in her hotel room she turned to the tall man standing there, looking around.

"Thank you. I don't know what would have happened had you not been there." She looked at the floor, she wasn't used to showing gratitude.

"Next time you should think about drinking at home instead of going out to do it. This city isn't safe for those who can't protect themselves."

Her head shot up and she stood taller. "I can protect myself. I was nearly mugged back home so I started taking a self defense class."

"Nearly?" Bryce could tell he was raising one eyebrow.

"I was knocked out and all I can remember after hitting the ground was seeing a dark figure in a cape. Next thing I know I was back home."

"I see. Well next time if you go out don't drink so much or maybe even at all. You can't protect yourself if you can't function properly. Keep out of trouble." He turned back to the window and made to leave but Bryce stopped him.

"Are you always out at night?"

"Always."

"Will I see you again?"

"I hope not." And with that he jumped from the window. By the time Bryce got to it he was out of sight.

Greg sat across from Bryce the next day at lunch. She was retelling the story of what happened to her the night before. As she finished she took a sip of water.

"Nightwing, eh?" Greg said after a lengthy silence.

"Heard of him?"

"I have, but normally he's been reported as being seen in Bludhaven and even a few times in New York. I don't think I recall many times he's been here."

"Do you now much about him?"

"Not really. Ask me about Batman and I could tell you some things but Nightwing is a mystery to me."

Bryce was determined to get Dick to talk to her. He had stopped answering her calls so now she had taken to following him. She had nearly been caught on more than one occasion but had become pretty good at staying hidden.

It was one day that Bryce was sitting at a café table near a building Dick had gone into almost hours before. She had bought enough cups of coffee to keep her awake for months while she waited for him.

Just as she was yawning she saw the door to the building open once again and this time Dick walked out. Nearly upsetting her chair as she jumped up she laid some change on the table for the waitress and made her way to the crosswalk.

She stood by a crowd of people waiting to cross. As she craned her neck to see him she realized that he had disappeared into the crowd walking up and down the sidewalk. As she elbowed her way through the crowd someone shoved back and she found herself on her backside in the middle of the street.

A dump truck was speeding towards her. It honked and began to break but the oversized vehicle continued to skid. Bryce scrambled to get up. Just as she stood someone slammed into her, knocking her onto the sidewalk. She was crushed beneath them.

As the person got up she groaned and took a deep breath, finally able to breathe again. Turning to look at her rescuer she stared into a pair of blue eyes, black hair falling into them. Her heart skipped a beat as he looked at her angrily.

Grabbing her by the arm he pulled her up and dragged her off to a car parked not far from the crosswalk. Opening the passenger door she threw her in and shut it then got in on his own side.

"What do you think you're doing?" he asked angrily as he turned the key in the ignition.

"What are you talking about?"

He turned to glare at her. "You know what I'm talking about. Why are you following me?"

"What else am I supposed to do? You refuse to talk to me!"

"Maybe there's a reason for it!" He pulled out into the traffic. "My life is complicated and I can't have old memories running through my head right now. I also can't have some girl who claims to be my daughter tailing me everywhere I go! A man needs his privacy!"

"Claims!" she cried. "You saw the birth certificate. I even look like you."

Dick sighed heavily. "Look I didn't mean it that way. I don't have time for a daughter. I don't have time for anything, really. I've got too much on my plate right now as it is. So just lay off, alright?"

The rest of the car ride was silent as Bryce fumed. When they reached her hotel she got out and slammed the door without another look at Dick. She didn't even take notice that he sat outside the hotel for a few minutes after she had entered.

In her mind, though, this wasn't going to stop her. She realized that it wasn't just a small feeling, wanting to know her father. She finally knew who he was and wanted him in her life no matter what.

That night she waited near Wayne Manor for Dick to come out. She knew he left the large house every night but she always lost him along the way. Tonight she was going to make sure she didn't lose him.

I was nearly midnight when the gates opened and Bryce heard the familiar growl of the motorcycle. She had bought a moped for herself. She knew it wasn't much for following him but she'd at least be able to stay close enough to know which direction he went in.

When he was far enough down the road she pulled out and rode off after him.

They were in the city and she wondered what he was doing. It had been over and hour and all he was doing was riding around. If he was going for a nighttime drive he could have gone down a country road outside the city in Bryce's point of view.

She was sitting idly around the corner while Dick sat on his bike a few yards away talking to a man when she noticed he looked up.

Looking up as well she noticed a light in the sky. It was barely visible due to the cloudless sky but she could just make out a bat shape in the round light. The sound of squealing tires caught her attention. She was about to lose him.

She raced off after him. He made hi way toward the police station and into and alley. She didn't dare go into it for fear of him seeing her. Instead she waited across the street in the opposite alley. Her heart beat heavily against her chest as she waited.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity she saw a different motorcycle pull out from the alley way. She recognized it as the cycle that Nightwing had given her a ride back to the hotel on.

Something in her mind made her start the moped and zoom off after the man. She soon found herself at the docks. The motorcycle and the rider were nowhere to be seen. What she did see were some very shady men talking in hushed voices by a boat. They were unloading some crates that appeared to be heavier than normal.

A noise made the men stop and look around. Bryce could barely hear one tell the others to hurry up.

She was becoming intrigued by the goings on of the men and soon forgot about what she was doing there. Just as she leaned forward to put her head in her hand and watch, someone leaped from the shadows to jump onto the box the men were carrying. They dropped it and scattered.

Bryce recognized Nightwing in his skin tight suit. He ran after one man and then another, incapacitating each in turn. When he finally had them all rounded up he waited for the police to arrive and then disappeared.

The sound of his motorcycle sounded far off and Bryce cursed herself for forgetting to start off after him. She did so now and followed the sound of his bike.

It wasn't long before she found him. His bike was parked on the street and she looked around to see him sitting on the ledge of a roof.

Without another moment's thought she hid her moped and made her way into the building. When she got to the roof she was happy to find that the door had been propped open. She could sneak out and hide without making a sound.

The light from a sign nearby lit Nightwing enough for Bryce to see his features. She stopped a few feet from him and hid behind a vent duct. As he sat there he sighed. Bryce could hear a weary soul in that sigh and her heart went out to him.

He pulled one foot onto the ledge and slid a finger into the side of a boot and pulled something out. Bryce couldn't make out what it was.

"Melody," he said, almost inaudibly. Did Bryce believe her ears? Did he just say her mother's name? Nightwing held the paper close to his face as he pulled up the mask he wore. Bryce nearly gasped when she saw his face.

It wasn't Nightwing on that ledge anymore. It was Dick Grayson. Bryce could see his blue eyes from where she sat.

He seemed so sad. She wanted to go out there and hug him. How much did he really love her mother?

It occurred to her that she should leave him alone for tonight. It wasn't right to hear someone's private thoughts. She carefully got up and tiptoed back to the door and headed down the stairs.


	8. Chapter 8

Bryce hadn't slept at all that night. Her mind had been working in overdrive. Dick was Nightwing. Her father fought crime. Was this the stuff he had on his plate? Did he not want her finding out about him?

Suddenly she sat up on the bed where she'd been all night. It suddenly hit her that it wasn't really the fact that he had a daughter he never knew about, but the fact that if she spent too much time with him, she'd discover his secret.

As she realized this she began to think about what she could do to get his attention. If normal means weren't working on him she would have to resort to unconventional means.

She'd need to get attention from him while he was Nightwing. Then her idea began to form. The only way to get Nightwing's attention was to be bad or get kidnapped. The latter wasn't something she wanted to risk. As she thought about it she knew her life was about to change forever and she wanted it.

Grabbing the phone she called Greg. When he finally answered she nearly burst out in excited laughter.

"Greg do you happen to know a good martial arts instructor?" she asked.

"Yeah, why? You thinking of taking some martial arts?"

"Why else would I ask? Could you give me their number?"

"Well, actually, you're talking to him," he laughed.

"Wait," Bryce said, skeptical. "You teach martial arts?"

"Of course. I've been taking martial arts all my life. It's a small job I do on the side for some extra cash. I enjoy working with the kids. I've been told I'm pretty good."

"Uh-huh," Bryce replied. "Well when can I start?"

"I've got a class tomorrow actually. I'll give you the address and you can come by and watch. I'll give you private lessons after everyone leaves."

"Cool! So what's the address?"

As soon as she got off the phone with Greg she paced the room. She was too full of energy. Pulling on a change of clothes she threw her hair up and left the hotel.

The next day Bryce sat by the wall watching the students go through their daily session. Her legs bounced as she watched, impatient to start her own class.

When Greg bowed to the children and they ran to meet their parents, Bryce jumped up and flitted over to him. A grin was plastered to her face as she stood by him waiting for the room to clear. When it had Greg turned to her and laughed at her expression.

"Excited much?" he asked as he shook his head.

"You could say that." Bryce quickly lost her grin and pretended she was indifferent.

"So I'm going to start you off at the bottom, of course. But I think you'll catch on quickly so it won't be long before we can get into more advanced techniques."

Bryce hit the mats with a jarring thud. Her head seemed to constantly ache nowadays. It had been weeks since she started her training. She was getting better but she still wasn't as good as Greg.

"Sorry. I tried to stop myself," he apologized as he helped her up.

"That's alright. I don't expect you to go easy on me. I'm almost a black belt."

Greg scratched his head. "Yeah. I'm surprised. You're more of a natural than I thought. But we still need to work on your speed. With you being such a tiny size we can't rely on strength. If you can move faster you'll be on equal footing with most your level."

Bryce was by the wall, taking a swig from her water bottle. Greg came to stand next to her. As she stood she could smell his sweat. She remembered when he barely even heated up during their sparring sessions.

"I must be giving you a run for your money at least," she commented as she used her towel to dab at Greg's forehead.

He looked up, his forehead crinkling, and laughed as he took the towel from Bryce and finished the job. "Yeah, I'll say. But don't forget what I said about speed. I think the problem is that you don't have the moves quite memorized. When you go home be sure to practice. Go through them like you would one of your dance routines."

"That's easy enough but I'm still having trouble with countering your moves."

"It won't be too hard once you've gotten used to the moves. Just practice, practice, and practice some more."

"Like one of my dance routines," Bryce murmured.

Greg threw his arm around her shoulders with a chuckle. "Exactly. Now how about you go home and get a nice shower in and be ready in an hour."

"Why?"

"I'm taking you out to dinner. You look like you could use a night out."

Bryce looked at him thankfully. "You are a savior, you know that?"

This made Greg laugh again and he nodded his head. "Go home and get cleaned up. I'll be by in a taxi in an hour."

Bryce would be lying if she said she wasn't disappointed in Greg's choice of dinner places. It was a small, hometown diner complete with teenaged and homely, older waitresses in tacky dress uniforms.

She sighed inwardly. As she'd come to know Greg, she'd come to expect a little more from him. Looking around the joint and thinking on it a few minutes she guessed she shouldn't be too harsh, he wasn't rich after all.

"Is everything ok?" Greg asked, interrupting her thoughts.

"Oh! Yeah, everything's fine. Just thinking," she replied, suddenly wishing she had her food to keep her busy.

"About what, if I might ask." He leaned forward, seeming genuinely interested.

Bryce cursed his curiosity and the cook's slow speed. "Nothing exciting," she answered.

"I'm sure it has to be somewhat interesting to have you so absorbed," he pressed, in a way that was beginning to irritate Bryce.

"Mm," she groped for something in her brain. "About my dad," she lied, knowing this would throw him off her trail.

"Ah." He took a swallow of his water. "Is he still not talking to you?"

"Yeah. Not that I've tried anything."

"How come?"

She sighed. "Eh, I guess I just got tired of feeling so hurt when he ignored me to my face."

"I see." He sat back. "Well I'm sure he'll come to his senses pretty soon. I'm glad you're taking this so well, though."

"Why?"

Just then their food arrived. Bryce nearly knocked her glass over as the hand with a plate of food came into her vision, startling her. She laughed nervously as Greg tried to hide his smile.

When the waitress had gone, Greg watching her the entire time, he answered. "You just seemed so obsessed. I didn't want you to really get hurt. I know it must be hard to feel rejected."

"Oh yeah? And how would you know something like that?"

He laughed low and then leaned in, one elbow on the table. "I wasn't always this good looking," he answered and then winked.

Bryce started laughing, casing many of the patrons to look at her with slight disapproval. When she noticed their staring eyes she quickly pretended to be coughing and picked up her glass, taking a drink.

"Well hurry and eat, but don't eat too fast."

"Why?" Bryce stopped a forkful of food halfway to her mouth.

"Because I have a surprise for you afterward and I'm anxious to get to it."

For a moment Bryce eyed him suspiciously. When he only grinned in response she sighed and continued to eat.

After they were done Greg paid and then ushered Bryce out to the curb where they awaited a taxi. When it had arrived he gave the driver an address Bryce didn't recognize. For a split second she thought they might be going to his place. This thought sent her heart to beating fast.

Just as quickly as she thought of that she squashed the thought and tried to keep her mind clear as the car came to a stop minutes after they left the diner. As she looked out the window she saw they were at a club.

"Sorry for the cheap meal but I wanted to save the money for this," he said, waving his hand in the direction of the club.

"And what are we doing here?" Bryce asked as Greg helped her out of the cab.

"Well it's Friday night and you've been at the hotel or in class with me. I figured you needed to let loose some. I'll even buy you a few drinks if you want."

Placing a hand on her hip, Bryce narrowed her eyes as she looked at Greg. "There's not some ulterior motive behind this is there?"

Greg shook his head as he laughed. "So quick to think you are the most beautiful thing in the world. Don't worry Bryce, I'm not like that."

They both laughed together now and walked inside. It was just then, as Bryce saw the outfits of the other clubbers, that she realized she was underdressed. She suddenly shied away, staying behind Greg, nearly stuck to his back.

Greg spun around, trying to get a good look at her but she followed him. Finally he grabbed her by the arms and held her out at arms length. "What's with you all the sudden?"

"I'm not dressed for clubbing. You might've given me a hint or something," she hissed.

At this Greg laughed loudly, throwing his head back. "Bryce what does it matter? You look great no matter what. I highly doubt anyone is going to bother to notice what you're wearing when you get to dancing."

"You're a guy, what would you know?"

"I'm a guy so I i _would /i _ know. I doubt you want to attract the attention of women anyways. I say you look great so that's all you need. Now get out there and dance!" He shoved her in the direction of the dance floor and then disappeared into the crowd.

Bryce twirled round and round, trying to see him, but even on her tip-toes she couldn't pick him out from the rest of the crowd. With a heavy sigh she turned back to the dance floor and looked around.

The floorboards vibrated with the bass of the song and the jumping of the club goers. Bryce easily found her rhythm and began to dance. It wasn't long before a man came up and asked to dance with her. She was unsure but said yes anyways. Once he started dancing she was glad she'd said ok because he was a much better dancer than she'd seen at any club.

A drink was handed to her and she stopped dancing to see who the hand belonged to. She was relieved to see it was Greg. He smiled at her and urged her to take it. She did and gulped down half, then with a sly grin gulped down the rest and handed him back the drink, beginning to dance again.

Minutes- and songs –passed and Bryce finally excused herself from the dance floor to sit down. She found Greg waiting for her at a table in the corner. As she sat she breathed deep, trying to regain her breath, and wiped her forehead with a napkin to rid herself of the sweat.

"Having fun?" Greg shouted to her over the noise.

"Definitely! Thank you so much!"

"No problem. Want another drink?"

She thought about it for a moment and then nodded. Greg called a waitress over and ordered another drink for Bryce. It wasn't long before she was sipping on it.

"So how come you're not out there dancing?" she asked between sips.

"I don't dance."

"Aw why not?" She laughed.

"Would you believe me if I said I had no rhythm?"

Bryce gaped at him for a moment and then set her drink down and grabbed Greg's hand, tugging him to the dance floor.

"What are you doing?"

"You're going to dance with me! Whether you like it or not!" She laughed as she turned to him on the floor and began to move. Greg stood there for a moment, watching her, and unsure look on his face.

Bryce took hold of his hands and began to move his arms about, pulling him this way and that. It wasn't long before he began to loosen up and it didn't surprise Bryce that he had more rhythm than he let on.

As the night wore on Bryce ordered more drinks, telling Greg she'd help pay, and forced Greg to dance with her the entire time.

It didn't seem like hours had passed to Bryce but soon Greg was pulling her off the floor and telling her they needed to get home. She consented and they called for a taxi.

When it pulled up to the hotel Greg helped Bryce out and took her up to her room. As the door shut behind them Bryce laughed with a sigh and let herself fall down onto her bed.

Greg stood over her, appearing to have not drunk anything at all. Bryce peered up at him.

"How much did you drink?" Her voice came out slightly slurred.

"Definitely not as much as you. I'd watch out for that. It's not healthy."

She flapped her hand at him. "Well at least I didn't drink as much as I did the last time I went out."

"Oh? How come?"

"Because last time I was very nearly kidnapped."

Greg looked at her, mildly surprised, his hands on his hips. "Well even if you had drunk as much as you did the last time you wouldn't have been kidnapped. I would never let anything bad happen to you."

It was quiet for a moment as Bryce cocked her head to the side to stare at Greg. She smiled and sighed again. "Really?"

"Really," he stated. He suddenly looked at his watch. "It's getting late. I should be getting home."

"What's the rush?" Bryce stood up shakily. "It's your weekend. Why not stay with me tonight?"

"I don't think that's a very good idea."

"Aw how come?" She toyed with his jacket, not looking into his eyes.

"Because we're both intoxicated and I don't want anything we might regret to happen." He gently pushed her back.

"I'm not like that, Greg." She sat down hard on the bed, pouting.

With a sigh Greg sat down next to her. "I know that but you've had too much to drink and sometimes you can't control what happens." He patted her on the back and stood. "Now I have to go. I hope you get a good night's sleep."

He walked towards the door but just as he reached it, Bryce was suddenly standing there, blocking his exit. "Please stay?" she asked quietly. "I'm not used to living on my own. Normally I have my mother with me." She looked down at the carpet. "It'd be nice to hear another person asleep in the room. I don't expect you to sleep in the bed- I could call for a cot or something." Suddenly she didn't sound so drunk.

"Bryce I shouldn't. I may not look it but I'm incredibly drunk myself."

"Liar," she mumbled.

Greg laughed. "Is that the only reason you want me to stay with you? So you aren't lonely?"

"Yes."

With a sigh he went to the phone and called room service. "Yes, I need a cot sent up to Miss Bardon's room immediately, thank you." As he hung up and turned around, Bryce laughed and rand over to him, throwing her arms around his neck in a tight hug.

"Thank you!" she said as she squeezed him tight. As she pulled away she stopped to look at him, her arms still wrapped around his neck. Her breath caught in her throat and she couldn't move.

Greg stood there, looking into her eyes, clearly fighting with himself. Eventually he coughed and pulled her off him. "As long as I'm sleeping here we'll have none of that. Now go change into your pajamas in the bathroom and get in bed."


	9. Chapter 9

It had been months since she'd started her training

It had been months since she'd started her training. Bryce had been a black belt for some time and still continued to learn anything she could. It never hurt to know more.

Sitting on her bed in the hotel, Bryce's heart fluttered nervously. One look at her calendar showed a circle around the days date. Tonight was the night she would go out and get to know the town from the rooftops. There was no stealing involved but she figured if she found something easy to take, then it would be good for her learning.

The alarm suddenly sounded on her cell phone, making her jump. Getting up she looked at herself in the full length mirror that the hotel had supplied her with. The suit wasn't the most elaborate but she knew it worked for now.

A simple black leotard painted with a yellow-tan paint in the shape of a bird with an extra large tail. She had on a pair of black driving gloves and her own pair of black dancing shoes. She had found a white mask and cut it to resemble bird wings and painted it the same yellow as the bird on her leotard. Her hair was pulled back into a bun, which wasn't the loveliest thing in the world seeing as how her layered hair stuck out, making it resemble some sort of barbed wire ball.

Hours into the night and Bryce was getting tired. She had scaled up buildings by using the fire escapes and anything else that was climbable. Now she sat on the ledge of one roof, catching her breath and resting her tired legs.

A few more nights of this and she would be able to start looking into stealing. Shuddering at the thought of committing a crime, Bryce rubbed her arms and legs trying to make the goosebumps go away. The thought of going to jail if she was caught wasn't a pleasant one. Maybe if she gave everything back the next day, she thought with a sigh.

As she stood to leave, she heard a noise. Twisting suddenly to see what it was, she slipped and fell onto the roof bottom first. Wincing as she stood she opened one eye and nearly fell again. Standing by the ladder from the fire escape was Nightwing. He stared at her for a moment and then took a step forward.

Bryce stepped back, her heel hitting the short wall behind her. Nightwing ran forward but stopped when he saw she had caught herself. Her breath was coming fast as her heartbeat sped up. He was between her and the fire escape. There was the door into the building, but most had locks on them. Turning her head she saw the building next to her. The rooftop didn't seem that far away. She could probably make the leap, she was a ballerina after all.

"Who are you?" Nightwing asked.

Bryce didn't answer. She continued to measure the distance between the buildings. As if Nightwing guessed her thoughts he held out his hand.

"I wouldn't do that. It's a long jump."

It was what she'd have to do. She hadn't done anything but that didn't mean he wouldn't suspect her. It never occurred to her that she might see him tonight, if it had, she would have figured out a story to tell him. Instead she was left with this.

She stepped away from the wall slowly so he wouldn't try to grab her, making it look as if she wasn't going to jump. Watching him she saw him relax and then she ran for it. When she approached the wall she jumped onto it and pushed off, giving her more force as she leaped into the air.

She could hear Nightwing cursing to himself but she didn't dare look back, she had to stick the landing.

As her foot hit the roof of the next building she pulled her wait off it and rolled. When she was up again she ran for the fire escape and moved fluidly down its many landings.

On the ground she took a second to look up. Nightwing had jumped the roof as well and was already halfway down the fire escape. Bryce ran full out before he had the chance to make it to her.

She had come to know the streets pretty well in her months of living there. Without looking back she continued to run down side streets and back alleys, making sure she would lose him.

Soon she was out of breath. Stepping into a dark alley she hid there to catch her breath. Leaning against the wall, she tilted her head back and stared at the sky. The lights from the city blotted out any stars.

Her chest heaved as she continued to breathe heavily. It stunk in the alley but it was better to hide while standing still.

A hand reached out of the darkness and pinned her shoulder to the wall. Another hand shot out, pinning her other shoulder against the wall. Her heart thudded against her chest, causing her to lose her breath for a second.

"Now I'm only going to ask one more time," Nightwing said as he stepped into what little light made it into the alley. "Who are you?"

Bryce turned her head away from him. He let go of one shoulder and grabbed her chin, forcing her to look at him.

"Tell me," he demanded. "Also, why were you running? What did you do?"

"Nothing!" she said.

"Then why run? You have to have been up to something. Were you about to do something?"

"No. I was actually about to go home." She twist around and dislodged his hands from her chin and shoulder. Stepping away from him she took a fighting stance.

"Then it makes no sense to run."

"Maybe I'm not trying to make sense. Confusion is a fun toy. Look let me go home. I didn't do anything."

"I will once you tell me who you are and what you're doing in my city?"

"Your city? I thought Batman was the crime fighter here?"

"He's busy at the moment. Don't change the subject. If I have to ask again you're going to regret it."

Bryce thought fast. She hadn't really thought about what she'd call herself. Nothing came to her, though. Looking at Nightwing she saw he grew more and more irritated the longer she took to respond.

Without another thought Bryce threw a punch at him. While he was dodging that she ran past him. He grabbed her arm but she turned, bringing her foot up making contact with the side of his head. He fell like a ton of bricks. She hated hurting him but she didn't feel like explaining herself tonight when she had nothing to tell.

Back in the hotel, Bryce changed out of her costume and hid the clothes in the back of a drawer. She then ran water in the tub for a bath. When the water was high enough she got in, turning the faucet off.

A sigh escaped her as she sat back in the tub, letting the warm water wash over her. She felt grimy after climbing all over the city. Her mind made pictures out of the textured ceiling as she stared at it, half thinking about what she had to do next.

She was still apprehensive about stealing but it was the smallest crime she could think to commit. Suddenly she dunked her head under the water. When she surfaced she wiped the water from her eyes with a towel. Stealing would have to do. She would get used to it.

In the weeks that followed her first night out, Bryce had studied lock picking so she could get inside buildings with ease. She'd also looked into security systems. She wanted to be completely prepared.

Now she was out in her costume again, her sights set on a jewelry store. It wasn't an elaborate heist but it would do for her first one. She had staked the place out while she studied everything she could about what would be protecting the pretty trinkets.

The security guards had finished their first round for the night and had gone back to their surveillance room. Bryce moved into action. The power for this particular store was in a box behind the building. It was locked with a simple but annoying lock.

When she found the box, Bryce set to work pulling the picks out of her bun. It took her nearly five minutes to open all the locks. The number of locks is what made the act so annoying.

Once inside she began to clip wires and move them around. She only had a matter of seconds to place them in their new homes. The power supply would keep things working only that long once the circuits were broken.

She saw the light go off for the alarm once she'd finished. Now it was a matter of getting into the building. There was a door on the roof that was easy enough to get into. The front or back doors were secured by the night guards from the inside. Everyone always forgot about the roof.

Slipping in through the roof access, she made her way quietly to the top floor of the store. She didn't have really any specific pieces in mind to steal. She figured she'd just grab what she could before anyone noticed something was up with the cameras.

There were dim lights on in the display cases. Bryce nearly gasped when she saw the necklaces, earring, rings, and other jewelry. Shaking her head quickly she went behind the case and began picking at the pitiful lock that held the glass door closed.

Her heart pounded in her ears. She could barely hear the clicks as she worked her picks inside the metal lock. When she had it open she was afraid someone could hear her heart for how loud it was. Breathing through her mouth, she reached in and picked out a few of the heavily bejeweled pieces. Stuffing those into a bag she had over her shoulder she moved on to the next case.

It wasn't long before she had to get out of there. She got up slowly and looked around. The guards would be starting their second round any minute. Quickly, but quietly, she made her way back to the roof.

Once outside someone grabbed her by the wrist as she shut the door. She spun around to see Nightwing standing there, a smug grin on his face.

"I knew you'd be up to something eventually. I've been watching you," he said, still holding her wrist.

"You've been stalking me? How pervy!"

"Wow, haven't been called a pervert in quite some time. You female thieves are all the same. You think every man is out to get you."

"Well obviously you are since you're holding my wrist. Now if you please, I must be going." Bryce maneuvered out of his grip and ran.

Nightwing was hot on her heels but she knew she'd get away. As she reached the edge of the roof she jumped and landed on the fire escape on the next building. Making her way down, she laughed.

"Gotta be quicker than that, buddy!" She landed on the ground and ran, making her way to a dead end alley where she could escape but he couldn't. He may have lived her longer than her but she'd set up a few escape routes while getting to know the city.

The alley wasn't far. Once she slipped into its shadows she used the large dumpster to launch herself at a high window sill that she knew would be there. As she pulled herself up she quickly grabbed hold to an overhang above the window. As she pulled her feet up to stand on the sill she made her way to the next window, then the next. When she was high enough she heard Nightwing down below.

He was slower than she thought, she thought with inner laughter. Now she leaped for the high wall and crouched low so as not to be silhouetted by the lights from the next street. There was a club on that street that she'd been to a few times. Plenty of strange people frequented it. Bryce had chosen the particular jewelry store for its closeness to an easy getaway.

"By the way," she called down to Nightwing who looked up. "You can call me Nightingale!" With a laugh she slid off the top of the wall, landing in a dumpster filled with garbage bags full of shredded paper. She scrabbled out of the dumpster and bolted for the club. She slid past the doorman and hid herself in the crowd as she made her way to the restrooms to change into the clothing she had hidden there.

When she was sure it was safe to leave the club she made her way outside. Looking around all she saw were the remnants of a once long line for the club, a few cars by the curb, and nothing else. Nightwing was sure to have searched for a while.

Bryce looked up at the roofs as she waited for a taxi. She knew Nightwing was patient, he could have made himself comfortable atop the buildings, thinking she had gone into the club. She didn't see anything unusual up high and shrugged, thinking something else had happened that he needed to check.

The next day Bryce made her way to the next town over and shipped the jewels back to the store. They'd be surprised and she doubted they'd even let the press know someone had broken into the store; they definitely wouldn't let on that the jewelry had been returned. Most jewelry stores thought they had a good system, she knew they'd be shamed if they let on that their security had been beat.

Once she was done with that she went back to her hotel. While she'd slept the night before, she had a dream about her stealing. In it she had made a calling card for herself. It was a cheesy thing but when she woke up that morning it sounded exciting.

Now she sat on her computer looking up what she had dreamed about. It would be a small sound producing piece, like those they put inside cards. Since she had figured Nightingale was a suitable name, why not put a nightingale's song inside the piece? All she had to do was find one small enough and with little markings as to who made it.

Dick stormed into the batcave, pulling off his mask and throwing it onto the computer console. Bruce sat in the chair in his Batman costume.

"Rough night?" he asked absently as he searched through a database.

"Try a rough month," Dick grumbled back as he pounded a fist on the console.

"Try not to break my computer, Dick, it's new."

Dick sat in a chair instead and sighed. "More than twenty jewelry stores have been broken into. Two museums reported things going missing a few nights ago. We have no fingerprints or anything to tell us who's been up to it except the same damned birdcall. Every time I get to the scene the culprit's already gone and all I can hear is that stupid twitter!"

"Well you can relax now because I went to one of the most recent crime scenes and found the device making the sound." Bruce held up a small white plastic thing with a small cord hanging off it. He pulled the string and the familiar call began.

"Have you analyzed it?" Dick stood and took the thing from Bruce's fingers.

"I was doing that when you came in. I've actually got a match already."

"What is it?"

"A nightingale," Bruce stated simply as he turned the chair to face Dick. "I knew it had to be when I first heard it but I haven't heard one in so many years I had to be sure. As for you," he jabbed a finger at Dick, "You should have known that."

"How the hell should I know it? Nightingales aren't native to America."

"It's not been that long since you've been to a country where they had them. Anyways," he sighed. "Now that you know the calling card of this thief what do you think?"

Dick sat back down, the device still in his hand, and thought. Suddenly it hit him. "Nightingale!" he cried. "How stupid am I?"

"That's a rhetorical question right?"

Dick wasn't listening. "Do you remember me telling you about that female thief? She called herself Nightingale the second time we met. She had just robbed a jewelry store! How could I have forgotten?"

"Have you seen her since?"

"No, I thought she might've just been passing through."

"Getting a little sloppy aren't we?"

"Well not any more. I'm going to catch her if it's the last thing I do!"


	10. Chapter 10

Bryce sat in the library of Wayne Manor while she waited for Bruce to return

Bryce sat in the library of Wayne Manor while she waited for Bruce to return. He had invited her to have dinner with him. Unfortunately, shortly before they were to eat he received a call which had to be answered immediately. Bruce had told her she should check out his library, and that's just what she did.

Flipping through a history book on Gotham, Bryce yawned. She liked books well enough but it seemed that Bruce didn't keep many for entertainment. She got up and replaced the book back on the shelf then turned to find a section on fighting styles. Her interest piqued she pulled the book out and laid it on the table and sat down.

Not long into the first chapter the door to the library opened. As Bryce looked up she nearly gasped to see Dick standing there. When he saw her he turned around and left the room. Bryce jumped up and ran after him. Maybe he would want to chat just a little, she thought hopefully.

"Dick wait up!" she cried. Dick stopped and Bryce ran up to him, placing her hand on his arm.

"What is it, Bryce?" Dick replied, his back stiff.

"Well, I just thought we might talk. I was getting bored waiting for Mr. Wayne to come back."

"I'm kind of busy at the moment," he replied pulling his arm gently from her hand.

Bryce put her hands on her hips. "I doubt that," she accused. "If you were busy then why did you go into the library?"

Dick opened his mouth then closed it, at a loss for words. Then, suddenly, he turned to her. "I'm sorry Bryce but I can't sit around and chat. I left the library because I figured you'd want privacy. I will just go to the public library instead." He began to walk off but Bryce grabbed the back of his shirt.

When Dick turned, pulling his shirt from Bryce's grasp, his heart wrenched. Bryce stood there, her head down, locks of hair hanging around her face, concealing much of it.

"Am I that horrible to talk to? Is it so bad to have a daughter? I know I can't complain about how I grew up." She sniffed as tears came to her eyes. "I had a mother and plenty of adults to look up to but to me, that doesn't make a difference." She looked up at him, her eyes sparkling with tears. "I looked up your past. Please don't get angry! I wanted to know more about you. I know you grew up without your real parents, and I know how it must feel to have even a semblance of one parent but not the other. All I want is a father, Dick. Would you take that away from me, even with your past?"

Dick stared at her, unsure of what to say. Part of him wanted to get to know her because she was Melody's daughter, but the other part said she would be in danger of his enemies and it would be too hard to keep his secret from her.

In the end the second part of him won. He placed a hand on her shoulder and said, "I'm sorry, Bryce, I just don't have the time to have a daughter." Turning he walked away, part of him screaming at him for what he'd just said.

Suddenly Bryce ran past him, her hands to her face, sobs wafting back to him from the air current she dragged with her. She was so tiny and fast Dick wasn't sure it was her at first. He stopped in his tracks and watched as the front door opened and Bruce walked in. Bryce ran past him, still sobbing.

Bruce looked after Bryce for a moment and then turned to Dick, a glare on his aging features. "What did you do?"

"What?"

"I know you had something to do with this."

"I just told her what I've been telling her. I-"

"Can't have a daughter?" Bruce finished for him. "Dick you can be as thickheaded as me sometimes." With a sigh Bruce sat down a package he was carrying and went after Bryce.

Bruce had followed Bryce's motorcycle tracks to the banks of the river, just outside of the city. She was sitting on the banks, her knees drawn up, her head in her arms. As he neared, he could see her shoulders jumping and hear her sobs.

"Bryce?" Bruce said gently, not wanting to startle her.

"Go away Mr. Wayne. I want to be alone," she answered without lifting her head.

"I know but I worry about you, kid." He sat down next to her, some of his joints popping with the effort. "I'm definitely not as young as I used to be," he laughed.

"Why would you worry about me?" Bryce sniffed, her head still in her arms.

"Well," Bruce sighed, "I took care of Dick since he was a just a kid himself. I've also taken care of a boy named Tim Drake. All I've had are boys to look after, I've watched them grow up and become the men they are today and neither of them have gotten married or even been able to keep a steady relationship. I suppose that has to do with me, since I was like that myself." Hesitantly, Bruce threw and arm around Bryce and drew her close.

"Bryce, you're very much like a grandchild to me. I hate to see you so down."

"It's not like I want to be," Bryce retorted. She pulled her head from her arms to glare at Bruce. "Everyone else has had their fathers and I never did. Now that I've found him he doesn't want anything to do with me! How do you think that makes me feel? I've accomplished so much for my age and I still feel worthless when he refuses to talk to me."

"Dick has his own problems to deal with. I think, in time, he'll come around."

"What, like by the time I'm as old as you?"

"Well, no, hopefully, by then, all the fight will be out of him, like it's started to do with me."

Bryce snorted. "I have a hard time seeing you as Dick."

"It's true!" Bruce laughed. "In fact, Dick is actually a lot nicer than I ever was. It makes me proud to see the way he handles things- most of the time," he said as Bryce continued to glare at him. "Just give him time and he'll welcome you into his life. But I think, until then, a little nudge now and then will do some good."

Bryce jumped up suddenly. "I don't have time to wait for that. If he won't talk to me I'll just have to make him." She ran to her bike then ran back, bent down and planted a quick kiss on Bruce's cheek. "Thanks," she said and ran to her bike.

Bruce watched her take off back into the city as he stood. "So much for that talk. I get the feeling it didn't go as I had planned."

Bryce hadn't donned the Nightingale costume in weeks. She figured she had better lay low for a while, but tonight was different. It was the only way to talk to Dick. True, he had no idea it was her and he flirted worse than anyone she'd ever heard of, but it was better than the cold shoulder and clipped voice he gave her when she talked to him as Bryce.

On top of a building she looked at the shops that lay before her on the street below. Most were just closing for the night. Tonight she had her sights set on a music box in an expensive gift shop. She'd gone in there while she took a break from being Nightingale. The box was pure silver with gold etchings all over the sides and lid. Small diamonds were placed in the center of each of the gold swirls. Opening the box produced the most beautiful song Bryce had ever heard. When she looked at the price she nearly choked on the gum she'd been chewing. She had the money, but she was careful with how she spent it and if the box wasn't at least half the price the tag said it was, she wasn't going to bother wasting her money on it, as much as she wanted it.

Tonight she figured she'd do her first real bit of stealing, she didn't figure she'd give this trinket back. Music was probably her biggest weakness.

A quick scan of the rooftops told her that no one was patrolling, at least not in the well to semi lit areas and not this early. A semi was driving towards her building. When it was in the right place, Bryce leapt to the top of the truck then pushed off, launching herself at the pole that held a light in place on a billboard over a few shops.

As soon as she had herself on the building she made her way to the back and scrambled down the side, using a drain pipe, then landed on a garbage bin. The back door to the gift shop was left slightly ajar, allowing the woman inside to a small breeze going through the warm shop.

Bryce peeked inside and when she saw the woman was busy counting the money in the till, she slipped in and hid in the back behind a new shipment of goods.

It was nearly an hour by the time the woman walked through the store then turned the lights off as she left. This store kept its own fuse box inside the building right behind a stack of boxes in the back where Bryce hid.

The lock on the box was easy enough to pick and Bryce easily found the right switches for the alarms. She'd have the box and be out before anyone knew. Once the alarms were off Bryce walked at her leisure into the store and lifted the music box up into the light that shown from the street lamps outside.

She sighed lovingly as she turned the box this way and that. "You are the most beautiful music box I've ever laid eyes on," she breathed as she tucked the box into a bag she had brought with her.

Now that she had the box she went to the front door, then the back and placed a sound device at each, making sure that whoever opened the doors would hear the music and know something would be missing. She'd have an entire night's sleep under her and no one would be able to track her by the time the police got here.

Leaving through the back, she climbed onto the trash bin and then shimmied up the pipe onto the roof. Making her way across the buildings to the next alley over where her bike waited, she heard a muffled scream.

Bryce hurried to the alley and looked down. Below were two men who had grabbed a woman from the street. One was behind her, his hand over her mouth. The other looked through her purse, dumping its contents on the ground.

"Don't carry much cash on you do you?" the man with the purse said as he threw the purse behind him. "Well I guess we'll just take payment some other way." He advanced on the woman and her struggling grew. The man behind her wrapped and arm about her waist to hold her better.

Bryce's lips curled into a frown. She didn't like seeing women taken advantage of and what the men had in mind made Bryce livid with anger. Dropping down quietly behind the man, she came at him from the shadows.

"I always say, if you have time to hurt this poor woman then you have time to go find a job," Bryce said. The man turned and Bryce struck him in the stomach with a swift kick. When he bent over, holding his stomach she leaped onto his back and forced her weight on him, causing him to go to his knees.

"That's how you need to act around women, on your knees, worshipping the ground they walk on. If it wasn't for a woman you wouldn't have been born, she decided to keep you. She could have easily gotten rid of you before you began to make her sick."

Bryce kicked him under the chin and he went sprawling on his back. As she turned to the second man, he shoved the woman forward and Bryce caught her. "Are you alright?" she asked gently.

"I am, thank you!"

"Leave your things here and go stand under the street light so you can wait for the cops." The woman did as she was told and Bryce ran from the alley.

Glass shattered and then Bryce heard the call of a nightingale. "Shit!" she muttered. The man had chosen the store she'd robbed. The bag was still clutched in her hand. Nightwing would be down on her before she could deal with the man, she knew it, but she couldn't let him get away.

She ran into the store and out the back where the man had escaped. Following the alley to the next street over, she saw him running down the sidewalk. Oh, not tonight buddy, she thought angrily.

Legs carrying her fast over the pavement, Bryce caught up with the heavy-set man in no time. Jumping up she landed on his back, knocking him to the ground. She got off him and rolled him over. His nose bled and he had a scratch on his forehead.

"Normally I don't do this sort of thing, but when I see a woman getting messed with, it pisses me off."

The man crawled backward, trying to get away. Bryce walked forward, deliberately stepping on the hems of the man's pants so he couldn't get up. When he finally stopped Bryce smiled.

"Please don't hurt me!" he cried, holding his hands up as if in prayer.

"Oh you lost my mercy back there when you tried to rape that woman. How bout I teach you a lesson you'll remember for a while?"

The man covered his face and Bryce laughed outright. "I'm afraid you're wrong," she said and brought her foot back and kicked the man between the legs. She knew not to do it too hard, she didn't want him to have to get surgery, but she wanted the lesson to stick.

"A little harsh, don'tcha think?" Bryce whirled around to see Nightwing behind her.

"Harsh? Any man stupid enough to try and rape a woman deserves a good swift kick in the jewels."

"I would figure you one to prize jewels, especially when you steal them all the time."

Bryce covered her mouth as if she gagged. "Please, jewels like that I don't go after readily. No, they have to come in a much more enticing package."

"Speaking of packages, what's in the bag?"

"None of your business, Nightwing." Bryce turned to go but Nightwing grabbed her wrist and spun her around.

"I believe it is. One good deed isn't enough to wipe the slate clean." He was so close she could feel his breath on her face.

"It's a good thing your breath doesn't stink," she said, stalling so she could figure her way out of this one.

"I save plenty of women and they appreciate fresh breath."

"You should be in a toothpaste commercial then, I'm sure the company you choose would love the endorsement."

"Let go of the bag, Nightingale." He grabbed her hand with the bag in it but Bryce refused to let him pry her fingers open.

"Not a chance," she said, then stamped on his foot, hearing a crunch, and jumped away from him as he jumped around in pain. Running back through the alley, Bryce made her way into the store and back through the street entrance. She waved to the woman across the street and ran to her bike.

Just before she reached the alley, Nightwing dropped in front her, limping as he walked towards her. Her foot went up and she knocked Nightwing off balance as she kicked him in the arm. As he fell to the ground Bryce noticed the man she had knocked to the ground earlier run from the alley.

"Hey, just so you know the other potential rapist just ran off. I'd go deal with him first." She ran to her bike as she called back to Nightwing. Jumping on she started it and, with screeching tires, sped off down the road. "Good luck catching me!" she yelled back.


	11. Chapter 11

The next day Bryce was invited again to Wayne Manor

The next day Bryce was invited again to Wayne Manor. Walking up to the door, she hummed the tune from the music box. After she was let in she met Bruce in a quiet parlor off the hallway.

"Thanks for inviting me over again, Mr. Wayne."

"How many times have I asked you to call me Bruce?" He stood from the couch going over to Bryce and giving her a swift hug. As they went back to sit down, Bryce noticed that Dick was in one of the spare chairs. His foot was propped on an ottoman and wrapped in bandages and ice packs.

"How'd you hurt your foot, Dick?" she asked as she sat down.

"Dropped a box on it this morning," he grunted and looked away from her.

"Ouch," Bryce winced but smiled inwardly. Serves you right, she thought. "Is it bad?"

"No broken bones," Bruce answered for him. "Just some bruising and swelling. Mostly just sprained. He'll have to stay off it for a while."

"I see, well maybe next time you shouldn't be trying to handle so much." Dick's eyes darted to her, a suspicious look in them. "I once pulled a muscle in my arm trying to lift a box too heavy for me."

While Bryce had been at her martial arts lesson a week back, Greg had suggested training in other forms of fighting. Bryce looked into it and chose boxing and kickboxing. A gym not far from the hotel had both classes open for new students.

She was now standing beside a ring, watching her teacher demonstrate what the fighting style had. Bryce had seen fights briefly on television and knew from the fights and what her teacher was now showing her, that she'd benefit well from the new style.

The class had been separated into pairs, each told to practice their first moves on their partners. While Bryce practiced blocking she noticed the door to the gym open, a faint tinkling sound as the bell attached to the door jingled floated toward her ears.

She took a quick glance and noticed Dick walking in, a gym bag slung over one shoulder. He saw her but looked away immediately. Bryce huffed angrily as she blocked again, focusing intently on her partner.

After her class was over she showered and changed in the locker room. While pulling a shirt over her head she overheard a few women gossiping about a museum preparing a gem exhibit. They were planning on taking a look as soon as it was open.

I should take a look, too, Bryce thought as she pulled her pants on, slipped her feet into her shoes and left. Maybe those gems will be real.

The next week Bryce was inside the museum. She always loved going to museums and seeing the old artifacts. She took her time going from each exhibit, examining each piece carefully and reading the plaques. No one suspected anything when she lingered at the new gem exhibit, looking closely at the sparkling stones.

From outside the glass, they looked real enough but she wouldn't put it past the museum to buy some cheap glass replicas.

"…heard they chose real stones. Can you believe it?" a woman was saying to her husband as they walked by the exhibit.

"Do they _want _to be robbed? Honestly, with all the robberies going on lately you'd think they'd do something that wouldn't cost them so much and entice the robbers," the husband replied with a sniff.

"Oh and did you hear that they found gems encrusting a few of the small paintings in the medieval exhibit?"

"Really?"

"Yes! They were doing a monthly cleaning of the new pieces and realized the designs were actually jewels, not pieces of cut wood!"

Hmm, Bryce thought, that will have to wait for another night. Now I know that the gems are real. I'll just need to figure out the security.

It took Bryce only two weeks of continuous research but she finally figured out the system. Now she fled over the rooftops of the city, careful not to look anywhere but ahead. She didn't want to lose her footing when she had to run across the small ledges. She knew this was stupid, but it was the only way. If Dick didn't want to spend time with her she'd make him pay attention to her.

The jewels clinked in the small bag she held in her hand. Her eyes flicked down at them. In the second she took to look at the bag her foot slipped on the wet cement.

She only let one small scream escape her as she fell. In the corner of her vision she saw the dark figure that was Dick as Nightwing swing towards her.

With a force that knocked the breath from her chest he slammed into her and wrapped and arm around her waist. They neared the ground and Bryce heard a click then felt gravity take hold of them as they fell downward.

Nightwing landed carefully on his feet and kept a hold of Bryce. She squirmed in his grip, she didn't want to go to jail for one foolish act. Most of all she didn't want her father to know she would steal.

His arm was nothing but muscle that tightened around her the harder she tried to get away.

"I'll be taking these," he said, his voice rough as he pried the jewels from her hand. "Who are you?"

"Why should I tell you that?" she spat at him, hoping to throw him off any trail he might've had.

"What is it with some of you?" he sighed. "It's off to jail with you," he said as he loosened his grip a bit to turn her so he could tie her hands together.

Bryce took this moment to free herself. She quickly used one of her martial arts moves to break his hold on her and then turned to give him a swift kick to the stomach. He doubled over with a cough. In this small moment Bryce fled, using the shadows to hide as she made her way into an alley and up a fire escape. If she was quiet he wouldn't hear her.

Nightwing ran by the alley, looking in all directions for her. She giggled inwardly at his stupidity. "He must think pretty highly of himself as a super hero," she said to herself.

Back in her hotel room, she took off her mask and threw it aside as she sank onto her bed and laid back. Her heart still raced from the chase. The excitement definitely beat performing in front of an audience any day.

The alarm was tricky. Her tongue stuck out the side of her mouth as she fiddled with wires. Finally she heard a click and then the humming stopped. Her hearing was exceptional; she might as well have been a dog.

Now that she had the system turned off she was free to pilfer any items she saw fit. The back-up lighting glinted off a pair of sapphire earrings. Carefully walking over to them, so as not to make any noise, she looked down on the small gems. Their blueness entranced her. Shaking her head, she rummaged in her pack for the glass cutter.

The noise was slight, she knew, but it sounded as if it echoed off the walls and inside her head. Her heart pounded, she knew that a place such as this didn't just have the one security alarm. By now the police were probably already on their way.

The glass came free. She put it to the side and reached in to grab the studs. Someone grabbed her wrist.

A heavy sigh. "You just don't quit do you?"

Bryce turned to see the masked face of Nightwing. "What can I say?" she shrugged. "Something sparkles and I have to have it."

"You might as well call yourself a crow instead of Nightingale," he replied as he turned her towards him. He quickly grabbed her other wrist and held them both up by her face. "You ever going to let me know who you really are?" he smirked.

Turning her head away in a false blush Bryce replied, "I'd be afraid of what might happen to me if I give you too much information. A girl can never be too safe in this world today. One might go to prison, for instance."

"Ah, now, I might let you off a little."

"You flatter me, Nightwing," she said, her voice throaty. Somewhere in her mind she gagged. She was flirting with her own father! The things a girl has to do to keep from being found out. She wondered if all the superhero women had to deal with things like this.

"So are you going to come quietly or are we going to have some problems?"

"Hmm." Bryce grinned. "I think we're going to have some problems."

"Now why exactly is that?"

"Well, you see you want me to stop stealing and go to jail, but I'd rather continue to have my pretty things and live free as, well, a bird."

She picked her legs up and flipped. The pain in her wrists was nearly unbearable as Nightwing clamped down on them. She kicked him in the jaw as she flipped, causing him to let go of her.

"Now see what you made me do? I didn't want to hurt you," Bryce said with a small laugh. "I have to go now." Sirens could be heard outside the building. Bryce grabbed the bag of jewels and ran. Nightwing followed in hot pursuit.

As she neared the window she kept open for her escape, Nightwing reached her and grabbed her arm, throwing her around to face him.

The two fought, arms flying as they struck at each other, each trying to land the blow that gave them the upper hand.

Bryce's training as a dancer came in handy. She slid to either side as Nightwing's fists came at her. Her leg stretched up as she ducked out of his reach. She brought it back down and around to kick him in the side. He dodged.

As their fight continued Bryce could heard the storming footsteps of the police nearing and their fight had taken her far from her escape route. She had to force him back that way. Or at least gain some advantage so she could flee.

"You're good," Nightwing said suddenly.

"Why thank you, and to think, I only began my training a few months ago."

"Really? You catch on quick. Who do you study with?"

She cackled. "Oh wouldn't you like to know?"

"I really would. If you're so good with only a few months training maybe there's some moves I could stand to learn from your master."

"Nothing could help you, sorry Nightwing."

"Aw come now," he huffed as he ducked. "That's not very nice."

"If you hadn't noticed, I'm not trying to be nice," she grunted. There was an opening. She went for it by sliding under his attack. She was now between his arms and severely close to his body.

She crouched low so as to keep from getting caught by his muscled arms and threw a kick into his stomach. As he momentarily doubled over she aimed another kick at his head.

Her foot slammed into his head and she felt her ankle twist. _Shit!_ She cursed herself. But now she had the time to run. Without another thought she turned and ran, throwing herself through the window.

It was a long way to the ground. With a roll in the air she gained control of her fall and grabbed hold of the railing of a fire escape. She swung down and let go. Dropping to the next railing down she used this to propel herself to the building fire escape on the opposite side.

There was an open window. She landed on the escape, her ankle screaming in pain, and jumped through it. It was empty, good. She limped as she continued to run. She'd make her way to the ground, she couldn't afford to lose her footing on the roof and fall.

The door creaked as Bryce opened it slowly and peeked out. The police were busy with the building next door. She could make her escape unnoticed.

Her bike was far from there. Clenching her teeth against the pain in her ankle she ran as fast as she could.

Breathing hard she rounded a corner where she knew her bike would be waiting safely. She slammed into a hard body. Arms surrounded her. Looking up she saw Nightwing's smirk.

"You really should hide your bike more carefully."

"I thought I had," she said, not letting her alarm show in her voice.

"You've gotten too arrogant these past few months. Now I think it's time to see who you are." She felt the metal before she realized what was going on then she heard the clicks as the cuffs enclosed on her wrists. Nightwing easily picked her up and carried her over his shoulder to a more enclosed area. Bryce struggled but she knew he had her. Her ankle hurt and she was cuffed. She also had no ground from which to push off from.

He took her into a building and then into a room with no windows. He shut the door and locked it then turned on the light. There was a chair sitting near the corner, he pulled it over and shoved her into it.

"You've given me too much trouble." He stood there and looked down at her. Then his shoulders slumped. "Why aren't you fighting back?"

She sighed. "There are no windows, you locked the door, I'm handcuffed, and…"she hesitated.

"And?"

"I twisted my ankle."

Nightwing laughed. "After all these months all it took was a twisted ankle to capture you? Well I suppose I should take what I can get. Now let's see who you are."

Bryce turned her head down. She wanted to delay this as much as possible. She felt his fingers as the side of her head. Her mask loosened and he peeled it off. Tears fell from her eyes. He was going to be very angry.

He placed his fingers under her chin and forced her to look up at him. When she opened her eyes she saw the shock in his face. His mouth just barely hung open and his brow was drawn together.

"Bryce Bardon?"

She had to play it cool. He wouldn't know she knew who he was. "H-how do you know my name?"

"I've see you around, heard your name." He paused. "But, why? Why are you stealing? You don't need this stuff. You have money."

"It's complicated," was all she said. "You wouldn't understand."

"Try me." He stood there, looming over her, a dark shadow that she just wanted to feel closer to.

"I'm sorry but I can't say. All I can do is ask that you please let me continue what I'm doing."

"I can't do that. You know I can't."

"Did you know I always returned the things I stole?" She saw the surprise in his face. "I take it you didn't." She sighed. "It's true. I steal but I always give it back. It has nothing to do with the price of the items-"

"Then what does it have to do with?"

"Attention I guess."

"Don't you get enough of that during your recitals? I've seen the crowds."

"I don't want that attention. It's the kind that I can't get any other way."

Nightwing sighed heavily. Suddenly he pulled something from one of the small pouches on his arm and sprayed her in the face.

Bryce went limp and Nightwing caught her. Picking her up, he carried her to his bike and set her on it. He placed the helmet on her head and then fixed the handcuffs so she had her arms around his waist and wouldn't fall off.


	12. Chapter 12

Opening the door, Dick found Bruce waiting on the other side

Opening the door, Dick found Bruce waiting on the other side. "What's going on?" Bruce asked as he looked at Bryce lying limply in Dick's arms.

"I had to bring her here."

Dick saw Bruce studying Bryce and then saw the realization dawn on his face. "She's Nightingale?"

"Yeah. Funny thing isn't it?"

"I should have guessed. But why did you bring her here? You know that no one is above the law, Dick."

"I know but she said she always returned the things she stole."

"Do you know that for sure?"

"No but I'm going to find out. I wanted to keep her here where I can keep an eye on her until I figure this out."

"Here, hand her over and I'll get her into a room. You go do what you need to do."

"Thanks. It won't take long."

When Bryce awoke she found herself in a dark and dank cave. The echo of dripping water and bat squeaks reached her ears. As she sat up, her head felt groggy. She rubbed her eyes and stood slowly. Her legs were a bit wobbly but she was able to walk. As she started off her ankle protested. She looked down and noticed a bandage wrapped around it. With a shrug she put her weight on her other foot.

There was a lit path before her. She followed it. The path led through a small, rock hallway and opened out into an enormous cavern. Bryce could see lights in the distance so she made her way towards them.

As she neared the lit area she could hear beeps and whirs coming from what she figured to be computers. A dark figure stood by a console, its back facing her.

She slipped in a puddle of water and caught herself before she fell, cringing at the small pain in her ankle. The figure turned and Bryce could see it was a man in a cape. He wore a mask with pointed ears. On his chest she could barely make out the symbol of a bat.

"I see you're up," the man said, his voice gruff.

"H-how did I get here?" Bryce stammered.

"Nightwing is a friend of mine, he brought you to me."

"Why?" Bryce began to approach the man.

"Honestly?" He turned away from her to look at a screen. "I'm not quite sure."

As he was turned away, Bryce suddenly remembered that Nightwing had taken off her mask. She franticly felt her face and breathed a sigh of relief as she felt the material that covered her face.

The man chuckled. "It's alright. Your secret's safe with me. I replaced your mask earlier."

Bryce stood there, staring at his back. Suddenly it hit her! "You're the Batman, aren't you?"

"Yes," he answered as he reached out and pressed a button.

"What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be out saving people?"

He sighed. "I do that on rare occasions now."

"You must be pretty old," Bryce said, not bothering to be polite.

"You could say that," he laughed. "Why don't you have a seat? I'm betting you're pretty hungry."

As if on cue, Bryce's stomach growled. She laughed. "It seems I am."

"Would a sandwich be alright for now? I'm afraid it's the quickest thing I can make."

"Sounds wonderful. You have ham and cheese? Maybe some milk, if you don't mind?"

"I can do that." He smiled. "Oh and don't touch anything," he added and Bryce saluted him to show she understood.

While he was gone Bryce took the chance to look around. There were quite a few screens, each showing a different section of the city. She peered into each screen, watching people pass under the cameras, unaware that they were being watched.

She took a look at all the buttons. Her vision began to blur at seeing them all. What were they for? She wondered.

"Dizzying isn't it?" A voice said, startling Bryce.

She turned around to see a man in a leather jacket and jeans. He wore a red mask over his eyes as well. Her breath caught in her throat at first, but she swallowed hard and was able to speak.

"How many of you people are there?" she asked, standing.

"'You people?' What do you mean?"

"Aren't you another super hero?"

He laughed outright. "I don't think anyone would call me a super hero."

"Then your bad," she said this as a statement.

"Well," he cocked his head to one side, "not _all_ bad." One side of his mouth curved into a smirk. As she watched him, the man walked onto the platform and began running a hand lightly over all the buttons. "It sure has been a while since I was here last," he said more to himself than to Bryce.

"You're a friend of Batman?"

"Not exactly."

Now Bryce was beginning to get annoyed with his half answers. "If you're not really a friend of Batman, then what are you doing here?"

"I've been watching you and I like your style. You're good at martial arts but if you train with me you can be better." He ran a finger over a smooth surface and looked at it as if inspecting for dust.

"And why would I want to train with you?" she said as she sat back down.

"So that you don't get caught next time." Crouching down he searched under the console. "And I can help make those weak ankles of yours stronger," he added as he gently took hold of Bryce's foot and ran a thumb over her ankle.

She jerked her foot from his grasp, her upper lip curling slightly. "I don't think I like your _style_," she retorted as she stood up and walked to the other side of the platform.

"You sure about that?" He was so close Bryce could feel the heat from his breath on her ear and she gave a shudder. "I think you might come to find you'd like my style very much."

"Then you must have a screw loose if you think I'll-" She'd turned around to face the man but he was gone. When had he left?

Footsteps brought her back and she looked around to see Batman coming back, a tray with a sandwich and a glass of milk in his hands.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

Bryce realized her mouth was hanging open and quickly shut it. "Uh, yeah!" she said and smiled. "Food!" She nearly leapt at the tray as Batman came up the steps to the platform. He laughed and handed over the tray.

As she began to eat she realized Batman was watching her. Swallowing her last bite, she put down the sandwich and looked up at him. "Yes?"

"Nothing," he said and turned around.

Suddenly Bryce stood and went over to stand by Batman. "You remind me of someone," she said slowly as she studied the only part of his face she could see; his chin.

"You know, I get that a lot," he said with a small chuckle.

Bryce smiled and went back to her sandwich. As she ate, both stayed silent. When she had polished off her milk and wiped her mouth Batman spoke.

"Why are you doing it?" he asked suddenly.

"Doing what?"

"Stealing."

Bryce took a deep breath and looked at the floor for a moment. "I don't know," she said with a shrug. When she looked up, Batman was looking at her and she could tell he knew she was lying.

Blushing, she studied the floor again. "I just wanted him to notice me," she murmured, almost inaudibly.

"Who?"

"Nightwing." She fingered a nail, avoiding Batman's gaze.

"What has he got to do with anything?"

She looked up suddenly. "What if I were to say I knew his true identity?"

Batman nearly took a step back at the shocking information. "Are you sure you know who he is?"

"W-well…" she hesitated and rubbed the back of her neck. "I didn't try to find out. It-it just happened. I'd been following him and one night I tracked him to a roof. I watched him for a while and he ended up taking off his mask."

Batman stood there for a moment as he took in all the info. Finally he broke the silence. "But even then, why is he so important to you?"

"He, well, he's my father. I told him that and even showed him the birth certificate and as soon as he saw it he didn't want to have anything to do with me!" Her heart raced and she could feel tears coming to her eyes. "I tried to get him to talk to me but every time I tried he just turned me away or ignored me!" Then the tears came. She put her face in her hands and sobbed. "Do you have any idea what it was like growing up without a father? It was like something was missing. I wanted what all those other little girls had! It wasn't fair! My mother refused to tell me who he was and no one else knew." Her emotions overwhelmed her so she couldn't speak.

Hesitating only a moment, Batman knelt down in front of Bryce and laid his hands on her shoulders. She looked up from her hands, tears streaming from under her mask.

"I know exactly what it was like growing up without a father," he consoled her.

"You do?"

"I do. And I can tell you I felt the same way you do. It wasn't fair."

Just then Nightwing walked in on them. He stopped dead in his tracks when he saw Bryce crying and Batman kneeling in front of her.

Bryce would have gotten up and run off but she had no idea which way the exit was. Instead she turned away from him and began drying her tears. She heard Batman's footsteps as he went to Nightwing. Whispers ensued and then more footsteps.

A hand on her shoulder made her look up. Nightwing stood there looking down at her, the look on his face confusing.

"What do you want?" Bryce asked, her voice thick with tears.

"I'm taking you home."

"Don't you want to put me in jail? You've finally caught me. You even know who I am! Why not go ahead and throw me away!"

Nightwing took a step back, unsure of what to say. When Bryce didn't continue he cleared his throat. "Come on. It's getting late and I'm sure you want to get some sleep."

"I'm not tired," she said but again, as if on cue, she yawned. _Damn!_ She thought, wishing she could hit herself. She looked at Nightwing and he had a small smirk on his lips. "Shut up!" she cried.

He held up his hands. "I didn't say a thing. Come on," he said again. "It's time for you to go home." He hauled her up and pulled her to his motorcycle.

"You never answered me before," she said.

"Hm?"

"Why aren't you turning me in?"

He stopped as they came to the bike, one hand on the helmet. "I don't think you want to steal," he answered at length. "And now that I know your real identity I can keep and eye on you. I can stop you before you do anything."

"I'd like to see you try," she muttered.

"What?"

"Nothing!"

He looked at her sideways and then handed her the helmet. "Get on."

It wasn't long before Bryce was back in her hotel room. Nightwing was gone and she was back in her normal clothing. She sighed as she carefully folded her costume and hid it in the bottom of her suitcase.

Zipping her luggage up, she looked at it thoughtfully. What was she going to do now? Should she continue to play the villain to get Dick's attention, or should she sit quietly at home and hope he comes to her?


	13. Chapter 13

Ducking a blow from her sparring partner, Bryce grinned wickedly

Ducking a blow from her sparring partner, Bryce grinned wickedly. He always left himself so open after a swing. She got up close and pounded into his stomach.

The man went flying a few feet. When he landed, Bryce was right there to help him up, an apologetic smile on her face.

"Why don't you let me try?" a man, who had been watching from the side, asked.

"If you think you can handle me," Bryce said with a wink. The man laughed and stepped onto the mat.

Both got into position. Her partner counted and shouted at them to start. Fists went flying and feet kicked. Neither was able to land a single blow.

"Come on now," Bryce laughed as she ducked. "You're just playing with me."

"You're right," the man answered and he landed a kick.

He waited for Bryce to get back up, not wanting to win so easily. Bryce continued to fight at only half strength. She didn't want to wear herself out before her opponent.

A bell rang somewhere in the gym. A familiar voice floated to her ears over her heavy breathing. She glanced around and spotted Dick entering the gym.

That look cost her. Stars exploded behind her eyes. When she could see again, she looked over at Dick. He was staring at her as she lay flat on the mat. With one quick movement she jumped up and began beating the man with all she had.

He was so stunned he couldn't even fight back. Finally she'd had enough. With one powerful kick she sent him flying. He was lucky he stopped just a few inches short of the wall.

Turning, she saw Dick still looking at her, his eyes slightly wide. She glared at him, wiped spit off her mouth and went to the locker room.

That night Bryce gave in to temptation. She had been itching to get the Nightingale costume on again. Nothing set her blood pumping harder than trying not to get caught.

Her anger at seeing Dick had sent her over the edge. It was the deciding factor. Now it was well past midnight and she was busy making her way to her next big job, a bag of goodies in her hand.

A shadow darted by overhead. Lips curving into a smile, she raced on, knowing he'd never let her get away.

She turned a corner and there he was, in the middle of the street. Bryce revved her engine. "You know, standing in the middle of the street could get you killed!" she called and let the bike go. As she came up on him he leaped, grabbing the back of her neck as he went flying over her. Her bike went crashing into a few trashcans, setting off a nearby car's alarm.

She landed hard on her back, Nightwing standing over her.

"Are you insane?" she yelled as she jumped up. "Don't you ever think that the stunts you pull could kill someone?"

"I could ask you the same thing," he replied with a small shrug. "Now I thought you were going to be a good little girl and stop all this robbery business."

"Once it's in your blood you can't get it out."

"You know I can't be nice to you this time. When I catch you you're going to jail."

"'When?'" She laughed. "Tell me, is it hard keeping your balance on the rooftops with such a big head?" She didn't let him reply. Instead, in one smooth move, she opened the bag and threw its contents into the air.

While Nightwing was busy catching them she made her escape. Running for the nearest shadowy alley. She could get her bike back later. Right now she needed to hide until he gave up looking for her.

Backing into the first good place she found, Bryce watched Nightwing struggle to catch the small, priceless artifacts. She laughed to herself. Nightwing really did have a big head.

Getting bored of watching Nightwing fumble around, Bryce took a look at her surroundings. It was a cozy little alley, full of stinking garbage cans. She was sure Nightwing would think to look in the alleys. He had more than likely even seen her dart into this one. But she knew he wouldn't expect her to hide among the trash instead of climbing the fire escapes as she normally did.

After surveying the area she looked back and saw that Nightwing had disappeared. She began to crouch down when two arms wrapped around her. A hand with a rag covered her mouth and nose, the other arm pinned her arms to her sides. She struggled, trying not to breath.

"You're going to have to take a breath sometime," a familiar voice whispered into her ear.

Bryce tried to scream but in doing so she accidentally took a breath. Within moments she had gone limp. She was then pulled into the shadows.

Nightwing leaped into the alley from above. He knew Bryce would try and hide in one spot instead of risk running again.

As he looked around, he didn't see her. He was sure she had gone into this alleyway. Where had she gone? Squinting his eyes in the dark of the two buildings he saw something.

He bent down and picked up a small, yellow mask. Immediately he recognized it as Bryce's. Something was wrong.

Bryce's head throbbed. Opening her eyes she had to allow for them to become adjusted to the bright lighting in the room.

When she could finally see, she saw that she was in what appeared to be a bedroom. Her bed was covered in beige and green sheets, with a thick comforter thrown over her. A nightstand by the bed held her gloves and a simple chrome lamp. The blinds were drawn over the window but no light showed trough. Bryce guessed the window was boarded up.

The walls were bare and painted white. A small dresser sat along the wall to her right. On it were a few things such as perfume, toothbrush, toothpaste, and a hair brush. As she continued to take in her surroundings, a noise at the door made her heart jump. Someone was in the process of unlocking the door. The handle turned ever so slowly and the door began to open.

Bryce steeled herself for some huge brute of a man to enter. Instead a man with short, black hair, wearing a leather jacket entered. He carried a tray of food in his hands.

With a friendly smile he set the food on the covers in front of Bryce. She looked at it and realized it was a ham and cheese sandwich and a glass of milk. When she looked back at the man she realized that he looked very familiar.

"I thought you'd be hungry," was the first thing he said. He pulled a chair from a desk to Bryce's left, turned it around, and sat in it backwards, his arms cushioning his chin.

"Why do you look familiar?" Bryce asked, her head reeling.

"Oh, I don't know," he answered with a small wave of his hand. "Maybe because I came to you in Batman's cave?"

"You!" Bryce jumped from the bed. Her feet tangled in the covers, her world spun as her brain tried to regain control; she fell on her rear end with a loud _thud_.

The man, laughing hardily, got up and pulled Bryce to her feet. His hands remained on her waist as she took a moment to allow the room to stay still.

"Why don't you stay in bed for now?" he asked as he pushed her gently back to the mattress.

"Wh-what's your name?" Bryce asked, her hand to her head.

"You can call me Jason," he replied as he took his seat.

"Why did you kidnap me?"

"I had the feeling you wouldn't consider my offer without a little bit of force."

"You're damn right I wouldn't," she cried. "Now take me back!"

"I don't think you want to do that."

Bryce slowly looked over at Jason. His expression was serious, his mouth in a straight line, his eyes no longer twinkling.

"Why?" she asked.

"Well from what I saw, Nightwing was about to catch you, again." He sighed. "You really underestimate him. He might have an oversized ego but he still takes in everything."

Bryce was a bit irritated at his assumption but she couldn't get her brain to work, and her anger over that far outweighed her anger at the thought that she wasn't good.

"Nightwing has a grappling hook," Jason continued as he leaned the chair forward onto two legs. "When you were busy checking out the alley he made his way to the other alley and used that grappling hook to get onto the roof. He would have caught you had I not done something about it." He let the chair fall back onto all fours. The noise made Bryce wince.

"You call kidnapping me doing something about it?"

"Well not entirely, no. Why would I help you out? You're just another punk kid coming into one of my territories. I'd rather see you behind bars."

"Then why take me?" she growled.

"Because I see potential in you. With the right training we could make a pretty good team."

"I don't do teams."

"What a shame." He sighed dramatically. "I guess I'll just have to keep you here and not feed you, letting you die. Or I could take you right back to Nightwing."

Not liking either of those choices Bryce cursed herself inwardly. "What do you want me to do?"

"Train under me."

"What?"

"Your martial arts are good but not good enough. You can barely handle Nightwing. What if Nightwing were to take the night off and let his ol' buddy, Batman, have at you. You wouldn't stand a chance."

"Don't be so sure-"

"Oh I can be. I've fought him myself. He likes to play the decrepit old man card, but really he's just reserving his strength for night."

Bryce looked at Jason sidelong. He grinned at her then stood and came to sit on the bed next to her. She scooted away, repulsed by his forwardness. Jason scooted closer.

"You can fight me all you want," he said quietly. "But in the end, I'll get my way. I know all about you, Bryce Bardon."

At her name, Bryce's heart leaped into her throat.

"Yes, you thought I just watched you as Nightingale." He leaned in, his shoulder touching hers, his face mere inches from her own. "You are so much like your father. That attitude of yours will get you into trouble." He sat back and smiled. "Luckily I can work with that and teach you how to use it to your advantage."

Standing, Jason went to the door and stopped. He turned around, and with a serious face said, "I'll come back tomorrow to see how you're doing." He opened the door. "I'm persistent." With a wink he walked from the room, shutting and locking the door behind him.

When Jason had gone, Bryce looked down at her tray of food. Had Jason been in the cave the entire time that night a while back? He must have been to have thought of a ham and cheese sandwich and milk.

Gingerly, she picked up one triangle of the sandwich, noting how odd it was that he had cut the sandwich in two. Taking a bite she realized how hungry she was.


	14. Chapter 14

She was shaking

She was shaking. No, the bed was shaking. Opening one eye just a crack she could see the form of a man standing by her bed. She opened both her eyes to see Jason, one foot on the edge of the bed, nudging it. She groaned and pulled a pillow over her face.

The pillow was wrenched from her grasp and thrown against the opposite wall. "Time to get up," Jason said.

"What time is it?" Bryce asked, rolling over to hide her face in the bed.

"About one in the afternoon" Jason replied, taking his foot off the bed. "You've been asleep for a good thirteen hours."

"Thirteen hours!" Bryce cried, shoving herself up. "I've never slept that long."

"You needed it. You spend too many late nights out in the city stealing things. You need to learn how to manage your time."

She turned to glare at him, what mascara she'd had on now smeared around her eyes. Jason stepped back. "Shouldn't you have woken me up around four in the morning? You know, to torture me?"

Jason laughed. "Normally I would, but I want you well rested."

"Well rested for what?"

"Training," he said simply. "Now get up, put on these clothes," he threw a few articles of clothing at her, "and knock on the door when you're done."

"Can I at least go to the bathroom first?" she said as she examined the clothes.

"You can go after you get dressed." He headed for the door and stopped. "Oh and you'll give me that outfit of yours when your changed. You're not worthy to call yourself a villain yet."

When Bryce was alone she pulled off her Nightingale getup and pulled on the sports bra, tank-top, and workout shorts. She pulled her hair from her bun and fixed it into a ponytail then knocked on the door.

Jason opened it. Bryce noticed he was now in his own workout uniform. "Grab your toothbrush and toothpaste; I don't want to smell your bad breath."

For a moment Bryce stood there, glaring at him. Then, with a small sigh she went back and grabbed her things and followed Jason to the bathroom. He ushered her in and shut the door.

Bryce nearly cried out when she saw how hideous she looked with the mascara smudges. She quickly cleaned her face, brushed her teeth, and used the bathroom then knocked on the door.

"I don't see why I have to be locked in every room I go into," she exclaimed as she followed Jason through the house.

"I can't trust you just yet," he replied. "When I do I'll turn the doorknobs around."

"And what about my mistrust of you? What's to stop you from doing me harm in the middle of the night?"

Halting so suddenly that Bryce ran into his back, Jason turned around. He slowly looked her up and down then raised an eyebrow. "And you say Nightwing has a big ego. Don't flatter yourself."

"Then what was with all that flirting?"

Jason laughed and shook his head as he continued. "Just a bit of fun. But you have nothing to worry about. Even if you were my type I wouldn't act on it. I may be bad but I'm not evil."

Now it was Bryce's turn to laugh. She was about to say something but they'd just arrived at the training room. Her mouth hung open with all the gadgets, dummies, and punching bags that were spread about the room. In the center was a clear floor where they could fight hand to hand.

"How did you pay for all of this?" she asked as she walked into the room and walked around.

"I'm a bad guy remember? I have money, no legitimate money, but money all the same."

"Not even Greg has this much," she whispered to herself.

"Babe, the only person who has this much and more is the Batman himself, though I do try to keep up with him." Jason walked to the center of the sparring arena and beckoned Bryce to him. "We're going to figure out your weaknesses first," he said with a mischievous grin.

Sweat was pouring into Bryce's eyes, blinding her. Swiping at her brow cost her precious time. Jason was on her like a pack of dogs. Blows landed on her stomach, arms, legs, shoulders, and every other part of her body she could still think of.

She hit the mat, the wind knocked out of her and her nose bleeding. Jason came to stand over her. Sweat beaded down his own forehead. One drop slid down his nose and landed on Bryce's cheek.

"You think I'm tough?" he asked as he stared down at her, his breathing still normal. "You had better think again. I was going easy on you. I want to build you up. If I broke you now you'd never be able to get better." He reached out to help her up, but Bryce knocked his hand out of the way and sat up, pulling her knees up.

"I'm still going to need a rest to heal the bruised muscles," she said quietly as she dabbed at her nose with her fist.

"Nope, no resting. You'll be up early again tomorrow going through the same routine."

"What?" she cried, now standing up. "If you think I'm going to do this again tomorrow, you have another thing coming to you! Go ahead and starve me, see if I care."

His eyes studied hers for a moment before he spoke. "After your next bit of training I doubt you'll be singing the same tune. Now go shower."

After her shower, Bryce was taken to the dining room. She stared at the small table with two plates of food for a second and then looked at Jason.

"This is going to be my next training? Eating?" she asked, skeptical.

"Don't worry about when the next bit is coming," he told her as he motioned for her to sit. "I don't want you anticipating it." He sat down himself. "Now eat something. I know you must be starving after that workout."

As Bryce ate, she eyed Jason. She wondered what he was thinking. What was next in her training? When would it come?

"Stop staring at me or I'm putting you in your room," he said, not bothering to look at her.

Suddenly, Bryce put down her fork and really looked at him.

"Is it your mission to annoy me?" Jason asked slowly.

"You should have known what you were getting into when you took me. You said you knew _all_ about me," she waved her hands about and rolled her eyes. "So you should have known I can be a bitch."

He sighed and set his own utensil down and eyed Bryce. "What is it?"

"What's what?"

"Obviously you have something you want to ask me, so spit it out."

Bryce looked stunned for a moment. She obviously hadn't really thought about what to ask him. Thinking fast she asked, "Why are you a bad guy?"

"That's all you can come up with?" He picked up his fork and began to eat again.

"Seriously! Why do you do whatever it is you do?"

"That's not something you need to know."

"No, come on, tell me," she urged.

"Why don't you tell me why you steal?"

"I thought you knew all about me?"

"Ah, right. So it really is the whole, 'Daddy doesn't love me' deal?" He snorted. "That has to be the most idiotic reason for a life of crime I've heard."

"Stealing was the only thing I could think of."

"I can see more money was spent on dance lessons than on academic education."

Bryce and Jason glared at each other for long moments, Jason slowly chewing his food and Bryce's foot tapping.

"Maybe you just need to give up on your dad and leave him alone."

"What?" Bryce had been so intent on her angry thoughts she hadn't heard him.

"Maybe Grayson doesn't want you. Your mother never told you why she left Gotham, did she? What if when she told Dick she was pregnant he didn't want to have anything to do with her? Then of course you know your grandfather disowned your mother. So what else was left to her?"

"I doubt that Dick could be so cruel."

"Are you sure about that? What do you _really_ know of him?" Taking a moment to have a bite of spaghetti, Jason chewed and then swallowed. "He's so busy being Nightwing that he can't be bothered with an annoying daughter; and you _are_ annoying."

"Yes, you've mentioned that," Bryce said dryly.

Shrugging and leaning back in his chair, Jason sighed. "It's pretty plain to see, Bryce. You're struggling to cling to the one thing that makes you who you are. Your mother is dead, your grandfather dead- not that that would matter anyways since he disinherited your mother- you're thousands of miles away from home, so what have you got left? Daddy," he said bluntly. "You're so caught up in trying to keep Dick in your life that you refuse to see him for who he truly is. He doesn't care about you and he never will."

"What do you know about him?" Bryce spat, her blood beginning to boil.

"Plenty. I do my homework on my enemies. Why would you put yourself through more pain after what you went through with your mother's death? Do you like it or something?"

At that Bryce stood from the table so fast her chair fell over backwards. "I'm going back to my room," she said through clenched teeth. "You might as well lock the door and throw away the key. I won't train under you anymore." With that she stormed off to the room that was made up for her and slammed the door shut.

She threw herself on her bed, wincing as she hit the bed. Carefully rolling over she gently felt each spot that felt bruised. Her injuries would take a while to fully heal.

Suddenly she rolled over, threw up her arm, and let it come crashing back down on the pillows. She screamed into the mattress three times before she felt even somewhat satisfied.

A click at the door signified that Jason had locked her in. She sighed and rolled onto her side. With her knees pulled up to her chest, Bryce thought about what Jason had said. What if he was right? What did she really know about Richard Grayson anyways? Her mother never said a thing about her father, maybe there was a good reason. Maybe her mother just wanted Bryce to build up this super dad image because when told the truth, it would have hurt.

Exhaustion washed over her like a wave and Bryce slowly closed her eyes. Within seconds she was sound asleep.

It seemed as though only a minute had passed since she had fallen asleep when Jason woke her up. The last time she had slept like that she was a little kid.

"I'm glad I'm not one of those who sleep nude," she said with a yawn and sat up.

"My hope still runs strong that you may one day be one of those people," Jason answered.

Bryce looked at him with one eye as she rubbed the other. "I thought I wasn't your type?"

He frowned. "You remember too much. Now get up and have some breakfast you'll need plenty of fuel for today." Just to pester her, he kicked the bed and went to the door to wait.

Bryce crawled out of bed and trudged to the door, her every muscle screaming in protest. "Remind me to kick your ass as soon as my muscles stop hurting," she muttered as she walked past him.

After breakfast they were once again in the training room. Bryce wasn't sure she could do any better today. In fact, she knew she'd do worse. She could barely walk. With each stretch a muscle made it was as if it was on fire.

Her fists were up, anyways. She had to show Jason she could take what he dealt.

"You ready?" he asked with a grin.

"Does it matter?"

Jason shrugged. "No I guess not. Well let's get started." He made the first move. Bryce couldn't afford to go first. She had to save all movement for necessary blocks.

Minutes had gone by and all Bryce had done was block. Her arms were beginning to turn purple with bruising and her side felt like mush. The only reason her legs were as good as they were, was the fact that she had hard muscles there.

"Come on, Bryce, hit me!" Jason said, trying to goad her into making a wrong move.

"I wasn't born yesterday, Jason," she spat as she blocked his next high kick with her arms. "You know I'm not well enough to attack."

"What does that matter? You think anyone you're up against in the field is going to care if you're ok or not? No! They're going to keep on coming because they know you're weak. If all you do is block you'll get yourself locked in a corner. Then where will you be?"

Bryce cried out in pain as she tried to kick Jason's thigh. Grinning, he grabbed her foot and pulled her onto her back. Her head hit the mat and it felt like her brain was going to come loose. She stayed down, trying to regain her senses.

In the time she was down Jason walked up and placed his foot on her neck. He looked down at her and snorted. "Don't take this training so lightly," he advised. "You have to pretend this is the real deal. One wrong move could get you killed." Letting her up, Jason stepped back to allow Bryce off the mat. "Would you have laid there when facing someone who was trying to murder you or take you into custody? No. You would have rolled out of their way and attacked from the side, or behind if possible. Just because you're down, doesn't mean you're out."

"If this were for real I would definitely have moved out of the way. But I know you'd never kill me, at least not yet," Bryce said as she used a towel to wipe sweat from her face.

"Then maybe I need to step things up. Should I say that if you don't fight back I i_will_/i kill you?" He paused for a moment, looking as if in thought. "Now that I think about it that could be a good incentive. Next time, fight back because it'll mean your life if you don't. Now go wash up and you can rest for now."

In her room, Bryce pulled open the drawers in her dresser to find they were empty. She'd been wearing the same clothes for two days in a row. She slammed the bottom drawer shut and stormed to the kitchen, where she knew Jason would be.

"Am I supposed to wear these until they're nothing but rags?" she asked, motioning to her shorts and shirt.

Jason turned from the stove and looked her up and down. "I can retrieve your clothes from your hotel room. I can also check you out of the place. No need to keep the room if you aren't going to be staying there anymore."

"And how long is this training supposed to take?"

"As long as it's needed. Everyone is different. It could take years for you."

"Years!" she cried, throwing up her arms. "Ugh! Whatever, just get my clothes." She turned and went back to her room, slamming the door.


	15. Chapter 15

"There're no clues to her whereabouts," Dick said, rubbing his eyes

"There're no clues to her whereabouts," Dick said, rubbing his eyes. "All I found was her mask. There were no footprints, fingerprints- nothing!"

"There has to be _something_," Bruce answered. "No one is that good. You must've missed something."

"Would _you_ like to go and check the scene out?" Dick waved his hand through the air in irritation.

"I think I might just do that."

The air was rank with mildew and animal feces. Batman was used to this smell. He used a flashlight to search the dark alleyway where Dick told him Bryce had last been seen. So far he'd come to the same conclusion; there was nothing there. Not even so much as a hair.

What made matters even worse was that he'd checked out the hotel Bryce was staying at and found out she had checked out. All her clothes and effects were gone and any traces of her had been cleaned by the housekeeper.

Standing up after studying the ground by the trashcans, Batman heard something. His cape swished in the muck that covered the cement as he turned.

"Long time no see, Batman."

"Jason," Batman said, his voice low. "What are you doing here?"

"Enjoying watching you hunt for dear Miss Bardon," he replied. "I don't think you'll find anything. I'm very good at covering my tacks."

"You!" Batman stepped forward and grabbed Jason's leather jacket, pulling him even closer. "What have you done to her?"

"Done? I've not harmed a single hair on her head. She's perfectly safe. She's clothed, well fed, and safe and sound. No need to worry."

"Then where is she?"

Jason laughed. "Oh I can't tell you that. Besides, she doesn't want to be found right now."

"Doesn't want to be found?"

"Didn't I just say that? Yes, she doesn't want to be found. You have dear little Dick to thank for that. All she wanted was the love of her father and he wouldn't have anything to do with her." He sighed dramatically. "Really, I would have thought that you had taught him better than that. He should know to take responsibility for his actions."

Batman let go of him and turned away, unsure of what to say.

"Don't worry Batman, the next time you see her she'll be perfectly fine."

When Batman turned around, now knowing what to say, Jason was gone. He quickly made his way back to Wayne Manor to tell Dick of the news.

i"_What?"_/i Dick yelled after Bruce told him everything. "We have to find her."

"I don't know if that's such a good idea," Bruce said.

"I don't care if it's a good idea. Just the thought that she's in the same place as him…" he growled, his hands clenched into fists. Suddenly he looked weary and put his head in his hands, sitting down. "It's my fault," he whispered. "I should have put my own feelings aside and considered hers. She never would have gone into this life had it not been for me."

Bruce came up and put a hand on Dick's shoulder. "You did what you thought was right. That's all we can ever do."

With a sigh Dick looked up at Bruce. "What do you think we should do?"

"He said we'd see her again. I don't know how long that will be but I trust him not to hurt her. The next time you see her you can try to make things right between you two."

"If she still wants me, that is."

"She'll always want her father, no matter what." Bruce patted Dick on the shoulder and left him there to think.

The next day Dick was standing by the grave of Melody Bardon. He had placed a bouquet of flowers at the base of the tombstone.

"I never thought there'd be anyone else I'd have to talk to in this place," he said and looked around. "I just wanted to say I was sorry for what happened so many years ago. I would have apologized sooner but Bryce was in the room."

He knelt down and placed a hand on the cold stone. "If you had only told me about her from the beginning I would have done something. If you had called me at some point in her life I would have had years to think about it. I would have been ready when she came around." His head dropped. "I'm sorry I didn't welcome her when I found out exactly who she was. It just shocked me to see that the thoughts in the back of my head were correct."

He stood up abruptly and shoved his hands into his pockets. "I promise you that I'll look after her. I may not be able to be a real father to her like I should, but at least I can protect her like a father can." With that he walked away.

A knock sounded on her door and Bryce called for Jason to enter.

"Since you've already done your training for today we're going to meditate and then eat."

"But I'm starving," Bryce said as she got up from the bed.

"Exactly. You're going to learn how to meditate with a distraction. Come on."

As Bryce followed him from the room she continued to complain. "And why do I even have to meditate?"

"Because you constantly lose focus. You don't keep your mind on what is at hand. If you ever want to prove yourself then you're going to have to forget that Nightwing is also your father and fight him as Nightwing."

"This is stupid," Bryce mumbled as she and Jason entered the training room.

"It may sound stupid but you'll thank me in the end. Now sit and get comfortable."

Both of them sat down. While Jason took only seconds to get comfortable, Bryce found it difficult to really find a good position. In the end she opted for letting her legs bend loosely in front of her.

"You're going to have to learn to meditate in the same style as I am eventually," Jason said, his eyes closed. "Now the gist of this is to just close your eyes and breathe deep and slow. In through your nose, out through your mouth. Don't think. If you keep your mind on your breathing you should eventually become used to the monotony of it and fall into a trance-like state.

"I don't expect you to get it right the first time. But at least try," he added at the end, peeking at her through one half-opened eye.

Ages seemed to pass for Bryce and she still hadn't come to that trance-like state Jason told her she would. Her stomach continued to growl and she couldn't get her mind clear. Her muscles ached and her clothes tweaked. It seemed that everything and anything was a distraction for her.

Just when she was about to get up, Jason's voice startled her, cutting the silence. "Alright you can get up now. We'll go eat."

As she stood, her joints and muscles creaked and protested at the movement. "How long was that?"

"An hour," he said as he walked from the room.

"Only and hour?" Bryce groaned. She could have swore it was more like twenty.


	16. Chapter 16

****Just wanted to post an apology here for those who don't read the other fanfictions. Sorry for how long it's taken to write something. I really have to be in a certain mood to write Nightingale. Hope you like this chapter, sorry not much happens. I think the next chapter will be exciting. Not sure what I'm going to have happen, though, so expect another bit of a wait. Sorry.****

_Six Months Later…_

"Get up," Jason ordered as he walked by the couch. Bryce opened one eye to glare at him. She'd been sitting on the couch, her legs pulled up and crossed in front of her, meditating.

Picking up the nearest thing in reach, a remote, she threw it at the back of his head. With a quick turn, he caught the remote and chucked it back across the room. Bryce rolled off the couch in time, the remote bouncing off the back cushion.

"Stop playing around, Bryce," he growled. "This is important. We're going out." He continued down the hall and disappeared into his room.

At the words, "We're going out," Bryce had jumped up and ran after him. She slipped through the crack in the door before Jason could shut it on her.

"Out? Both of us?"

"Yes, both," he groaned.

"Where?" She plopped down on his bed and stared at him, waiting for him to answer.

"To get some weapons. Now could you please leave and get dressed so I can too?" He started rummaging through his drawers for a pair of pants that hadn't been ripped to shreds from frequent use.

"Why am I going? Not that I want to stay here, it's the first time I've been allowed out in months, but why do I have to go?"

"Because you refuse to use a gun and you don't want any of the knives I've got and I don't want you completely defenseless."

"Fighting hand to hand isn't defenseless."

He turned on her. He was tired of this argument. They had it often. Bryce still refused to use anything lethal, anything that wasn't part of her. She was too afraid to kill.

"I've told you time and time again, Bryce, you _have_ to have something sharp, at the very least, just in case. You should always be prepared."

"I'm not trying to argue, Jason. I'll go just for the fun of getting out, but I'm not going to get anything and that's that!" She crossed her arms over her chest and set her mouth in a thin line.

"Oooh! What are these?" Bryce cooed as she looked over a case of throwing spikes. Jason walked over and leaned over the glass case, inspecting the spikes carefully.

"You like these?" he asked with a sideways look at Bryce. Her eyes were glued to the spikes but she nodded. "Hmm, seems you have some potential after all." He stood and motioned for the owner of the shop to let them see the spikes closer. "These might not be my taste, but at least they're sharp."

Then shop owner took the spikes out and handed them to Jason. Bryce watched them as they left the case and as Jason pulled each one out and ran them through his fingers, making sure they were acceptable.

When he was done, he looked up at Bryce whose nose was only inches from the carrier in his hand. With an amused sigh, he handed them over and watched as she gleefully pulled them out herself and looked them over.

"You sure you like these?" he asked, just to be sure. "There are plenty of other things in here you might like better."

"No, I like these," she said absently, still feeling the last spike.

"Alright. We'll take these and I want to finish looking around myself."

"Very well," the man replied and took the spikes from Bryce.

"What new stuff have you gotten in? I heard there were some good things in the latest shipment."

"Follow me and I'll show you."

They followed the man through a door in the back and into a small, attached warehouse. It was packed with boxes marked as overstock and a few marked as new. The man went to these and removed the lid from the first one. Bryce gasped as she saw what was inside. Ornate boxes filled with sets of tiny throwing knives. They were thin and half the size of her spikes, which were about the length of a dollar bill.

Gingerly, she reached in and pulled out one of the boxes and opened it. These were the same as the ones the owner was showing to Jason, who was shaking his head at them. Bryce loved them. They were so cute and tiny. Pulling one out, she carefully ran her thumb along on side and then held it in her palm, testing the weight. She held it by its handle to feel the balance. These were so wonderful! But then, she also loved the spikes. Which ones should she get?

"Like 'em?"

Bryce jumped, startled from her thoughts. Jason stood there, a smug smile on his face as he saw how lovingly Bryce handled the knives.

"Yeah, I like them."

"We'll get these as well," he said abruptly.

"But I've already got spikes."

"It's not bad to have more than one weapon." He shrugged. "What's in the next box?"

Bryce was bored with the other boxes. Nothing but big, incredibly sharp weapons in those ones. No, she'd rather have her less harmful knives and spikes.

Back at the house, Bryce immediately went into the practice room and began playing with her new weapons. Jason figured he'd let her have some alone time with them while he took some time to himself in the living room.

It was some time later when a frustrated Bryce stalked past the couch and into her room, slamming the door behind he. Jason watched her walk past him, already figuring what was wrong with her. With a heavy sigh he heaved himself off the couch and went to the practice room. The spikes and knives lay on the floor all around the target. One knife was barely lodged into the thing. As he stood there, it fell out and clanked on the floor.

"Bryce!" he called as he made his way to her room.

"No!" she yelled back, already knowing what he was going to do.

"Come on, I'll show you how to use the things." He chuckled quietly, amused by her attitude.

"I'm too annoyed to try right now!" she cried from her bed. She had flopped down on it and hadn't bothered moving, even though her face was squished into the blankets.

"So then you'll learn to throw them with some distraction," Jason said, his voice suddenly beside her.

Bryce rolled to the side of the bed away from Jason with a gasp. She still wasn't used to how quiet he could be. She laid there and glared at him as he sat on the other edge of her bed. "I don't feel like it right now, Jason. Couldn't you, just once, let me do what I want?"

He thought about it for a moment, his eyes studying the ceiling. "Hmm. No," he said as he turned his eyes on Bryce. "You don't get to do what you want to do until you earn it. So that means you're going to get up and go back to the practice room and I'm going to teach you how to use the weapons I got you. Got that?"

***

"It's been a bit too quiet lately," Nightwing said as he stepped up next to Batman.

"Sometimes that can be a good thing," Batman replied, still looking out over the city.

"But not in this case, right?"

"I don't think so. I get the feeling that we'll be seeing our old friend Nightingale real soon."

"What makes you think that?" Nightwing turned to Batman, looking at him intently.

"If I know Jason, he'll want to test Bryce. It's been over six months since he kidnapped her. He's not contacted me in over four. He's getting ready to strike."

"You don't think he'd get Bryce into serious trouble, do you?"

"I'm not sure. It all depends on how he views her skills. If she's gone above and beyond what he expected, he'll try something big. If not, he'll start with something small, but big enough to be newsworthy. He'll want to make sure the city knows who Nightingale is."

"I was afraid of that. She's been gone for so long most have forgotten the vague reports of her burglaries." Nightwing sat down on the ledge of the roof with a heavy sigh.

"I'll do my best to keep her from getting in too deep," Batman said as he placed a hand on Nightwing's shoulder. "Jason is a tad bit unpredictable but I doubt he'll get her into anything serious, no matter how good she gets. Even still, I'll make sure she's alright."

"Thanks, Bat-" Nightwing turned to see nothing but the city beyond the rooftop and chuckled. The man might be old, but he was still good.


	17. Chapter 17

Sorry to fool everyone into thinking this is a new chapter. I couldn't think of any way to let everyone know what I was doing. I don't think anyone really every looks at my profile so they don't know I have a livejournal that keeps everyone updated.

Maybe now you'll know and go check the profile for the link to my livejournal.

So I made this fake new chapter in order to tell everyone that I will be taking down Nightingale fairly soon. Now don't worry, it's not permanent. I am still working on it. See I've never been too happy about the beginning and some of the parts in the middle. I'm not big on editing but I don't really have any qualms about re-writing. That's what I'm doing.

The new Nightingale is going to start with seeing how everything came about before Bryce was born. You will get to see her mother, Melody, in action. I think this is much better than silly little flashbacks. Now the very beginning of this new Nightingale you all will remember from the original piece.

That flashback of when Melody met Dick at the Christmas party is now in normal font since it's going to be a present action. After that flashback starts the parts that I haven't exactly written into the original piece. You'll get to see Melody go through her finding out she's pregnant, what her father said to her when he found out, and what Dick said to her when he broke up with her.

You will see a bit of Melody working to save money in order to buy the plane ticket to go to her mother.

I've been having fun writing this and I really think you all will love this new addition. Another reason why I want t re-write is because I am having such a bad writer's block with where I'm at in the story that I think fixing the bad parts and going through the story fresh will help me.

To whet your appetites for the new beginning (and to be nice and give you something entertaining to read) here is an excerpt from the Melody and Dick chapter:

~*~*~

buThe Morning After/b/u

When the sun poked through the curtains, lighting on Melody's face, she groaned and rolled over. Then the fog cleared in her head and she suddenly sat up. She looked around and saw Dick sleeping peacefully next to her, one of his arms thrust under her pillow, one of his legs thrown over hers, his other arm resting in her lap.

Gently, she removed his hand and slid out from under his leg. Getting off the bed she picked up her clothes and dressed. She walked over to the mirror in Dick's room and ran her fingers through her hair then licked a finger and wiped the mascara out from under her eyes. With another look at herself she sighed.

"It'll have to do. I'll just tell daddy that I stayed up late with my friend watching movies. I've done it before." With a shrug she turned to look at Dick one last time. She smiled and then left the room.

As she closed the door quietly and turned she ran into the butler.

"Oh! I'm so sorry Alfred! Are you alright?" she asked as she grabbed his shoulders to steady him so he didn't drop the tray he carried.

"Yes Miss Bardon, I'm quite alright." He said as Melody let go. "Would you care for some breakfast?" He lifted the tray a little. There was juice, toast, bacon, eggs, pancakes, and even sausage. It all smelled so good. Melody's stomach growled.

"I'd love to stay but I have to get home. Daddy will be worried." She turned to go but then suddenly whirled around and grabbed Alfred by the shoulders, startling the man. "Please don't let Mr. Wayne know I was here. I don't want him telling my father."

"Don't worry Miss, your secret is safe with me." He gave her a quick wink then entered Dick's room. "Rise and shine Master Dick, your breakfast is ready."

"Ten more minutes Alfred," Dick groaned and Melody giggled as she walked toward the front door.

Her hand was on the handle when she heard Dick cry out. "Close the curtains Alfred! My eyes are burning!"

"I won't have you sleeping all day today Master Dick," Melody heard Alfred reply. She opened the door and stepped out, not wanting Dick to come running after her when he fully realized she was gone

~*~*~

Hope you enjoyed this little snippet. It's one of my favorite parts. I'm going to leave Nightingale up as it is for now. When I have enough written for the new version, I'll take it down. I want to get plenty written in order to give a small chapter once a week and still be ahead so you guys won't have to deal with waiting a long time to see something.

-Sarah ^_^


	18. Chapter 18

Hey everyone, yes, I know, another fake chapter, sorry! But this is important. If you didn't notice, I have put up the first chapter in the rewritten Nightingale. I'm still working on it but hopefully I'll be able to continue writing like I have been recently.

Check it out. It's titled Nightingale –revamped-.


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